


shift the map; ATEEZ

by arrowthroughtheheart



Series: - m u s i c v i d e o s - [1]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Aliens, Alternate Universe - Historical, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Graphic Description, Minor Character Death, Minor Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Minor Original Character(s), Multi, Other Fandoms Not Mentioned in Tags, Tags May Change, but i mean it kinda means something, it's only a few though and i'll give warnings beforehand, just a few, my summary sucks, ok maybe not everything, switches point of views from time to time, warning: if u hate the gore skip every san and wooyoung scene ever
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-13 01:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21486256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arrowthroughtheheart/pseuds/arrowthroughtheheart
Summary: hongjoong reminisce some of his joys and most of the times - pain - through a journal he's been writing. what he doesn't know is that he's not the only one who remembers the sins of his past.also - someone he hasn't seen in a long time might be watching him, a bit closer than he'll ever expect them to be; but he doesn't know it yet.
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Everyone, Choi San/Everyone, Jeong Yunho/Everyone, Jung Wooyoung/Everyone, Kang Yeosang/Everyone, Kim Hongjoong/Everyone, Park Seonghwa/Everyone, Song Mingi/Everyone
Series: - m u s i c v i d e o s - [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1548709
Comments: 8
Kudos: 13





	1. all eyes on me now.

**Author's Note:**

> this is going to be w i l d. listen - idk what came to me that made me write this, but if you have weak stomachs, hearts, or is in a bad mental state i do not recommend you reading this; but if you choose to do so please know that i've never forced you to read any of my work; this one in particular.
> 
> warnings for this chapter: mentions of dead animals, blood, and an inhuman way of digesting food.

[} - 𝕨 𝕆 𝕟 𝔻 𝕖 ℝ 𝕃 𝕒 ℕ 𝕕 - {]  


An anthem.

_ That’s what it’s called _ , Hongjoong muses to himself, dragging the bloody, messily cut head of a bunny across the empty room he's been through enough to call familiar - lights flickering all around him as he passes by the haunting white walls of the torn-apart hospital. Despite the fact that he’s maybe the most, if not  _ one of  _ the most well-versed in the language that humanity used, he’s never heard that one before. Anthem. It has a nice ring to it, too.  


Or maybe he _thought_ he never heard of it. His mind has been playing tricks on him these days, it's like he doesn't know what's real and what isn't - it really gave him lots of headaches, too.  


_ Maybe it’s one of those things they used to shout out in the war all those years ago, _ he begins to talk to himself again - this time taking mental notes to carefully lift the head of the bunny and hold it upside down, only to stop the blotches of blood from dripping onto his white, silky cloth that works in covering his humble abode. 

There’s really nothing important to know about Hongjoong’s house, despite the fact that it’s such a poor excuse of one. And no, we’re not talking or discussing about how he could obtain a nice, and possibly expensive kind of cloth; spread it out like a little tent right beside a torn apart wall in the hospital and call it his home - we’re talking about how he has nothing else  _ but  _ this. This and a great view of the quiet and almost dead forest that feels and looks like they're watching his every movement, all the time every day.  


Luckily, our little guy doesn’t seem to mind.

As long as he’s got little brains of other, living animals to eat - he’s all good and dandy.

A little  _ splosh  _ was heard when Hongjoong scoops out the poor bunny’s brain, throwing its bright-red and fresh inner organs onto a little bowl-like container. His ear twitches slightly as he does this, but Hongjoong takes notice of nothing above the ordinary. Same old rustles, same old crackles from the forest. It’s nature, it always has unexplained noises here and there, that’s just how nature is.

His little kettle is starting to make funny noises, a noise Hongjoong has explained with the term  _ “Wheeeeeeeeeeee”  _ since that’s the closest he’ll ever get to actually describing the noise it made. It usually means that the clear, liquidy thing is heating up properly; and Hongjoong always loves it when something feels a bit warmer. The moving, invisible thing around him is getting colder these days; air? Is that what they called it? He would wake up some days with chattering teeth and pain in his bones - and when the little kettle goes ‘wheee’, it usually helps calm these teeth-chattering and coldness to go away.  


“Oh, oh, _nonono_,” Hongjoong mumbles, reaching over to move the kettle away from its heat source, the little dancing orange tongues that would dance on top of a pile of wood, “stop wheee. No more wheee.”

He’s satisfied, taking little cylindrical metal objects he found laying on the slightly ruined table, taking a soft sip from the kettle. It’s burning hot on his scaly tongue - just the way he likes it.

The creature leans on his creaky chair, letting his eyes roam about, taking in the view of his close-to-nothing  _ house _ ; he learned that word a few _weeks_ ago, maybe _months_, or _days_! Hongjoong doesn’t know when to use those terms in the right way, yet, but hopefully he will, soon. He’s been tracing the worn out old bundle of papers called a ‘_dictionary_’ back and forth a few times now, each and every day gathering more and more information - excited to use it in his day to day life, although he’s lonely, most of the time -  _ all  _ the time, actually, and has no one to use it in a conversation with.

He  _ used _ to have someone.

“Oh!” that reminded him, and Hongjoong stood up from his seat as soon as the idea enters his mind. “ _ Jounral _ . Jou- Journal?” he goes back to questioning himself and his own credibility about using human words, but he brushes it off almost as soon as his eyes landed on the - skin-clad bundle of papers; the book! - the book-journal. Journal-book. Hongjoong is just confusing himself at this point. 

He picks it up, his dainty fingers scanning the dried and patchy animal skin that covers the front and back of the book.

_How evil_, he thinks to himself, reminiscing the good old days. Those creatures that inhabited this planet before Hongjoong and his friends arrived and waged war upon them; those creatures are evil. 

Hongjoong shivers, choosing to open the journal instead of lingering on the pure hatred he feels consuming his heart and licking heated fire up his lungs every time he has to think about those before him.

_ Hatred,  _ a word he learned first all those years ago - when he walked out of the ship that brought _them_ here, when they were walking side by side, hand in hand with some of the people he trusted the most; walking into the darkest pits of war where there had been no sun to shine and no love to spare. He walked into the front line all those years ago, and he immediately knew what it meant.

What he forgot to mention is that no one else got to remember what the word meant. No one _but_ him.


	2. if you still doubt mine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Hongjoong is convinced by a very excited War Veteran; Yunho.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings : none.
> 
> this is the only soft(?) chapter in this entire roller coaster so. sit tight, folks.  
also i didn't????edit????or look through this one at all???? bc i'm embarassed of my works woohoo

꧁༒☬ [ 𝕡 𝕣 𝕠 𝕥 𝕖 𝕔 𝕥 𝕞 𝕖 , 𝕞 𝕪 𝕒 𝕦 𝕣 𝕠 𝕣 𝕒 ] ☬༒꧂

**N O T E A R T H**

**24/10/1861**

“Captain?” Yunho’s face is filled with uncertainty, his right hand holding the crumpled paper Hongjoong recently threw away - and from that single question-filled word, Hongjoong can already sense the fact that the younger definitely disagreed with his decision. Hongjoong appreciates that Yunho is kind enough to keep it to himself, though, because if he didn’t - Yunho might be the one and only reason as to why their captain’s head suddenly explodes into a million tiny pieces.

“I. . .beg your pardon, but-”

Hongjoong turns around to face the young kid, agony written on his face. He silently begs that Yunho secretly has an inner-coward alter ego so that he won’t say what’s on his mind, but Hongjoong knows that’s not the case at all. Yunho, for one, is _ not _a coward.

In this scenario, it makes Hongjoong wants to get the fuck out. Maybe put a bullet or two in his own head, who knows.

“If _ they _knew that our most important asset - I’m talking about you, Captain, and our entire team - if they knew how you rejected the invite to fight alongside our people in the front line, heaven knows how ashamed our people are going to be!” Yunho leans closer to Hongjoong’s table, and for a moment the older was about to defend himself until he realizes the fact that Yunho was just dragging a chair out for him to sit on. 

“I’m not doing this because I want our people to be ashamed, Yunho,” Hongjoong replies, flipping the paper he’s currently reading to the next page, fixing his specs, “I thought you’d know me better than that.”  
“I _ do _ \- we all do, Hongjoong,” Yunho cuts him off while referring to the rest of their team, inviting the older to spare him a glance. No one calls him by his name unless they’re being dead serious. “But not the people who are dying out there. Alone, without help,” he continues, nodding to the window, as if the war was happening right outside their headquarters and not on a planet a couple of light-years away.

Hongjoong shifts on his seat.

“Not the people who entered the military to support you, who idolized you, and such,” Yunho continues, a mischievous grin now spreading across his face as he realizes how affected Hongjoong is by this conversation. “Would you _ really _let them down?”

That was probably the final blow Hongjoong needed to have a change of heart - and Yunho smiles victoriously when he hears the subtle sigh the older let out, followed by a chuckle coming from behind the two of them.

“You owe me fifteen lambs for that,” San shoves Wooyoung out of his way, returning to the sofa he was situated on when they weren’t trying to get the VIP seat on Yunho trying to convince their Captain to receive another mission - which worked, as per usual, since they knew all too well about how to push the right buttons with Hongjoong - “Shut up, you dick,” Wooyoung sighs. “Take ‘em. I only like the lamb’s brain.” 

“But _ I _wanted the brains, Wooyoung - there’s only a few lambs they caught from that far away place every month!”

Hongjoong tuned out of the fight Wooyoung and San had about lambs; the magical creature that their people found - well, _ stole _\- from earth, which surprisingly, tastes a lot better than any of the stuff they have to eat here. His eyes flickered between the rest of his team, not including Yunho who was absolutely excited about going to the field again, Wooyoung and San who were inseparable and didn’t really need him to worry about them - and he finds himself lingering upon looking at Seonghwa, who was looking back at him with a knowing look.

“What about Seonghwa?” he questions, and the rest of the people in the room shifted back into the tense atmosphere. They knew better than to take light of _ any _ Seonghwa situation, especially since their Captain is a bit - very much - biased towards this one. “What _ about _Seonghwa? I think he looks fine,” Mingi leans on his palm, resting his chin atop of it. He’s been trying to sleep, but apparently, today’s not the day for him. Poor Mingi.

“He-” Hongjoong trailed off, almost breaking eye-contact with his friends but decided not to at the very last minute. 

“He just got married. His wife is having a kid soon, _ heck _ , the letter didn’t even request for us to fight with them - they wanted us to give those kids in the front line some encouragement _ but _ it would be nice if we could go out there and fight with them,” Hongjoong looks back at Yunho, “but I’m not risking the fact that my friends and family deserve a fresh new start without being threatened by death,” he leans back into his chair, “even though that _ is _our job.”

“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa tilts his head, clearly disagreeing.

“This is _ not _ a discussion, Hwa,” Hongjoong continues, a bit perplexed by two different people using his name to settle an agreement with him in one day - and this makes him have a little change of heart again. Maybe it _ is _that important?

“I’m not going to risk losing a father who is expecting their child, I’m not going to risk the fact that Yunho might have to feel guilty for the rest of his life because he’s trying to make us go over there and do what we usually do, and I’m not risking _ our _life,” he states, running a hand through his hair. Hongjoong is surprised at how calm and composed he’s being throughout this discussion, since he’s been having a migraine since this morning and hasn’t taken a single medicine yet. “Is that clear?”

When the seven other heads in the room mutters quiet little disagreeing noises, Hongjoong groans, protecting his eye-sight from the seven brats he’s forced to look after.

“Why did they even made me a Captain?”

⌎⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⇲⊰⌏

Hongjoong sighs at the view he’s been displayed with. His right hand man, the friend he’s known from day one and he knows better than anyone else - Seonghwa - is saying goodbye to his wife; the woman he deemed worthy enough to stay by his side for the rest of his life and a woman respectful enough to be the wife of one of the Nation’s Heroes. Hongjoong swore to himself that he’ll bring Seonghwa back alive, even if that’s the last thing he might ever do.

“What’s wrong with you?” Seonghwa asks, suddenly appearing beside the Captain - who was off daydreaming the entire time, “is your corsage to tight?” he chuckles, “I can ask them to switch ours.”

The joke doesn’t calm Hongjoong down, it instead spurs the anxiety in himself on to another level. He’s not afraid for his own life, he never was. 

“I was just. . .” Hongjoong took a glimpse of Seonghwa’s wife, who were watching their interaction the entire time, and upon noticing Hongjoong looking at her, gave him a little salute. This made Hongjoong chuckle as he sends one back with a smile, and he looks back to Seonghwa with a little less worry written on his face than before. “I was just observing,” he concludes, and the other man looks back at him weirdly, a habit he’s cultivated ever since they became roommates all those years ago.

“Maybe you observed too much?” Seonghwa shrugs, “that’s always been the reason of why you overwork yourself all the time.”

Hongjoong deems it not necessary that the other worries about him over-observing and over-working, though he does not say it out loud for fear of igniting a lengthy scolding coming from Seonghwa; which would be masked by the taller in ‘I’m just reminding you, Captain,’ because he usually wouldn’t like to embarrass Hongjoong in front of the rest of the kids.

_ Usually. _

“Anyways,” Hongjoong raises an eyebrow, sinking himself if only the slightest into the chair to strap the safety belts around his shoulder - but the action makes him feel smaller, so he sat up straight not long after that. “I have no clue why a war is even _ happening _,” he continues, zooming into the screen filled with little fonts shining a light on the entire situation; looking on his left to find Yeosang, calmly inspecting his safety first-kits - “but I do know that some of our kind are scaring the earth people?”

“Some,” Seonghwa runs a hand through his hair. “But Jongho knows the situation better, isn’t that right, kid?” 

Said boy leans forward in his chair, close to passing out - on a nap, apparently - but at the mention of his name was brought back to life and forced to use his brain on maximum speed, all that within seconds away from him dozing off. “W-what was the question?”

“You’re tired aren’t you?” Hongjoong cuts in, face looking the most guilty he’s ever looked as he eyes Jongho up and down. The youngest clears his throat, taking the time to fix the creases on his suit before he pulls open the tablet he’s been keeping on the side of his chair. “No, Captain. I’m fine.”

“The mess that is happening on earth was definitely not our kind’s fault, Captain, though some of the lamb-stealing adventures must’ve confused the earth-people to some extent, and I was one of the people who signed the petition for them to stop stealing, no matter how _ tasty _food can be,” Jongho glares at Wooyoung and San, who glared back at him in disagreement, “but that was it. The war is completely earth-people inflicting anger out of other earth-people, and though we might not see it often, our own kind was stuck in an aggressive disagreement, too, for some time.”

“But since the condition on earth is starting to get messier and messier, some of our people have failed in trying to blend in with their surroundings and are captured, dissected, and-” Jongho made a face, and Hongjoong raises an eyebrow to react to the situation accordingly. “A-and other- other things,” the youngest clears his throat the n-th time that night, his fingers gripping the side of Mingi’s arms - the man sitting right beside him - as their ship decided to take off.

“So it has become our job to- uh. . .look for them and save them? Maybe?” he concludes, unable to thread all of the information he’s been receiving into one big storyline, but Jongho feels his heart swelling with pride despite the confusion he’s going through when Seonghwa gave him a quick thumbs-up, a smile hanging off from the corner of his lips. Hongjoong feels the exact same way Jongho does, half of them caused by how random and out-of-nowhere this new mission is and how excited Yunho is for it.

Sure, their Yunho is a veteran - there’s no doubt about that - and he’s been through thick and thin with the terms and regulations of the literal war itself; been through it and hated its guts and though this one in particular doesn’t involve them at all, per se, it’s still a war. And their peace-loving, loved by children and their mothers, National Hero Mr. Yunho is never the type to be excited at the slightest in entering a warzone.

And it’s even weirder for Hongjoong to see how quickly the others agreed on the fact that they need to help these lost other soldiers from being dissected and brutally murdered by earth-people; though their job never included ‘finding lost victims’. He realizes how much of an asshole he’s making himself look like, but he just can’t help but wonder.

“It sounds like they just want to grab the M.I.A soldiers and get the fuck out of there, to me,” Hongjoong mumbles, looking up to Yunho; who was looking at him the entire time - trying to figure out what their captain is saying. “So why do they even need us to go to the front line?”

“With all due respect, Captain,” Yeosang nudges his side, munching on something while asking for Hongjoong’s attention to be focused on him, “I really can’t see why you’re worrying about this.”

“Elaborate, Yeo-”

“I get that it’s a new terrain for all of us, I mean - we’re basically aliens to earth-people, and,” Yeosang stops for a moment, as if to ponder about his beliefs on being called an alien, “it might be terrifying, but!” he clasps his hand on top of Hongjoong’s shoulder,_ another _habit that is very Seonghwa-like that others pick up since they notice how it works wonders on calming down their very agitated captain from time to time.

“_ But _,” Yeosang spells out another ‘but’, in a sing-song tune this time, “I believe that you’ll lead us just fine.”

Hongjoong feels the tense muscles of his face unwinding, a smile creeping up his face at this sort of masked compliment instead. He wanted to thank the younger for his encouraging words, but felt that it wasn’t the right time since, right in front of them, the door slides open in the exact moment when Wooyoung decided to cough; maybe the action was preceded by the fact that the person walking through the door was someone Wooyoung looks up to, or he just had perfect timing.

“Oh?” Hongjoong stands up, giving the person a curt bow to show him his respect before he reaches for the other’s hand in a handshake. “Park Jimin,” Hongjoong smiles, “Nice to see you around. . .here. Congratulations, by the way, we’ve heard about your achievements all around the world - and I’m just kind of curious why someone as important as _ you _would go down here to converse with us,” he continues, tilting his head slightly trying to give a signal to Seonghwa; a masked cry for help. It’s nothing bad, just the usual.

Hongjoong can’t socialize for shit. 

“Ah. So you’ve heard about me, haven’t you?” Jimin smiles, and both of his eyes are suddenly missing from action; turning into little moon-like slits on his beaming face. “I have heard of your _ team _ , too, and their achievements. Especially with one of your seven men being a half-human,” the room became silent from the newly acquired word. _ Human? _

“You know, those _ earth-people. _ They’re called humans,” the oldest in the room continues, totally missing the fact that Wooyoung is hyperventilating. “I must say, though, Captain,” Jimin turns around again, looking at Hongjoong this time, “I’m a little bit curious on why they want you and your people to finish the situation they usually don’t even shed a light upon. And now they’re making war heroes _ leave _their safe and sound headquarters?” he clicked his tongue, “unheard of.”

Hongjoong shrugs. There’s literally fifty-five different ways to call him and his team but war heroes? That’s a first one. He has to give Park Jimin some credit, because honestly, this one almost makes him laugh. 

But he’s also intrigued.

“Well,” the corner of his mouth twitched, “they have to sacrifice _ someone _who is willing to walk the rocky terrains of another planet. Don’t you think so, kind Sir?”

Jimin returns his smile with an overly-sweet one, and for the first few times in his entire career, Hongjoong feels a shiver running up his spine. 

“To each their own belief, Captain,” Jimin returns his bow after a long pause in their conversation, “Have a good day.”

When Hongjoong returns to his seat, feeling almost boneless from having another weight added to his _ already _busy mind, Yeosang shifts closer to him to provide warmth. And maybe - because he notices something else. 

“I can _ maybe _see why you were so worried, now,” the younger whispers, still munching on something. Hongjoong turns his head to see what Yeosang was eating, but not before the half-bitten preserved snack was shoved upon his face before he can ask for one. Yeosang offers it to him with an unsure smile decorating his face, and Hongjoong took a sad bite out of the food when San finally pipes up, mentioning how they could just end up deserted in an unknown place on the map because of the thing Hongjoong just said to Jimin; one of their most renowned pilots at the time.

_ Yeosang might be right once again _, Hongjoong considers before forcing himself to close his eyes. Every resting second is a second he might be thankful about in the next few hours.

Okay.

Maybe Mingi underestimated his friends’ ability of keeping a secret - or this was fully his fault and his habit of not listening to someone’s answers when he asks them something - but he’s pretty sure even _ he _was not on the top of anyone’s list when they spoke of their origins. Hongjoong didn’t seem surprised at all when Jimin disclosed to the entire room that someone in their midst is a half-human, so maybe he knows.

Of course Hongjoong knows. He recruited all of them himself, all those years ago. 

But this still left Mingi questioning himself and his priority because the topic of where his friends came from just never crossed his mind as a topic worthy enough of a conversation.

At least until today, and that’s just one secret getting unfold. How many more do his friends _ keep _?

“Wait who’s _ half _ -hunman?” Wooyoung asks again, for the n-th time after Park Jimin left, because surprisingly, that’s the only thing he remembers from his _ idol _ ’s quick and out of nowhere visit - even though the older did praise them for their military achievements. “Half- _ human _, Wooyoung,” Jongho corrected the older, pulling out his tab to write down notes, though his eyes are also travelling around to find out who the fuck is what and why none of them knew for more than half a decade.

“_ I’m _ half-human,” Yunho pipes in to announce, finally, one of his eyebrows raising in a rare kind of challenge. It’s clear how out of place he feels currently, and that raises a red flag to an almost sleeping Hongjoong. Yunho barely gets aggravated, and once he does, it’s hard to keep him calm enough to continue with their supposed mission, and being not-professional is the last thing they need right now.

“And you never told us?” Wooyoung leans to Yunho’s side, supposedly just curious but always sounding like he’s a bit angered.

Now, Wooyoung has a little habit of talking in a very high-pitched voice although sometimes he doesn’t really mean it to be that. . .annoying. But it does annoy people sometimes, and though they’ve tried to come to terms with each and every one of each other’s traits, it’s hard to keep it cool with people like Wooyoung in situations like. . .this.

“Why would I tell people something that insignificant?” Yunho looks down at Wooyoung. “Does that make me any less respectable? Does it make me not have a right to fight for my people? What difference does it make if I told you every single detail about where I came from and what _ breed _I am, Wooyoung-”

“Because I consider us friends, Yunho,” the smaller cuts him off, no signs of being offended whatsoever written on his face. So that’s good, at least for now.

Mingi pulls Wooyoung’s hand that was closer to him so that the excited one backs off a little bit, since Yunho looks like he needs personal space to cool off and Wooyoung isn’t one to know the slightest shit about personal space. 

“I _ knew _,” Hongjoong chimes in, massaging his temples with one of his hands that weren’t occupied by Yeosang, koala-ing himself around their Captain. Yunho’s face lit up in something similar to embarrassment, but not quite like it - they just lit up in a different kind of way. Mingi noticed this, but lets their Captain speak his mind.

“But you let me stay?” Yunho speaks again this time, surprisingly composed and calm, unlike a few seconds ago where it looks like all he wanted to do was defend himself from being kicked out of the team - but now that he knew Hongjoong knew all along, something akin to his tense nature wind down a little bit. Mingi acts not surprised of the fact that Yunho can switch his persona just like that in a millisecond, and shifts his gaze back at Hongjoong to witness his answer. 

Hongjoong just nods. 

“Why?” Yunho inquires.

“Because you wanted to stay.”

“Because I-”

“It was intimidating at first, you know? Your _ presence _. I thought about how your existence was maybe just a big ‘fuck-you’ from the universe, like, ‘look at this kid, he’s in the army because he idolizes you but then he outgrew you and he’s talented and perfect and he has just the right posture, maybe he’s here to dethrone you’ and then they added, ‘oh! He’s also a half-alien,’”Hongjoong rambles, visibly uncomfortable with his old mindset.

Yunho listens attentively, looking right into Hongjoong’s eyes. 

“Then I realized that you- you’re Yunho. That you’re here because you have your eyes set on a goal and because you’re a selfless bastard that wanted to keep his family safe, the family he left behind and the family he grew up with,” he looks up to meet Yunho’s eyes, “and then I realized how much I need that kind of positivity in my life. You know? The strength to put up with my life everyday just to fight for. . .for peace?”

_ That’s a funny way of looking at it _, Hongjoong thinks to himself. Fighting to obtain peace. Huh. Odd, indeed.

“So I made the selfish decision to force you into being _ my _family,” he laughs, noticing how the side of Yunho’s cheek twitches, “so I have something to fight for everyday, too.” 

Hongjoong takes the twitch as a positive response.

“And to the rest of you,” he eyes the entire room, “I’m sorry that I’ve been keeping something this big as a secret, but I really don’t have the right to disclose something _ that _ personal about somebody. Yunho told me once, all those years ago; that he wants to be remembered because of the things he does, the victories he obtains, the love he gives to everyone, and not by something that supposedly define a being; like where they come from, who they fight for, and all the other mundane things everyone holds in a higher pedestal.”  
Mingi heaves a sigh, careful to not let it show to anyone beside him since he wants to celebrate their first victory alone. The others might still be too tense to say or feel anything at the moment, but he knows they’ll all come around. Maybe even in this few seconds.

“Since it’s no-more-secrets time,” San looks up from decorating his nails, “does Yunho want to elaborate more about why he’s so excited on coming ‘home’, even though the people on earth is basically ripping each other’s throat right now?”

_ God damn it, San, too soon _, Mingi curses, letting go of his grip on Wooyoung that might’ve gotten a little too strong, since the smaller one was looking up at him with a visible pout the whole time. Mingi pats Wooyoung’s hand and it made the other look away with a content smile now decorating his face.

“I’m trying to save someone,” Yunho confesses, neck hung low. “I probably should’ve told you this or gave you clues that I have a secret agenda, either way - I wasn’t going to stop until I know that they’re going to make it out of there alive.”  
“They-”

“Woah, Yunho-”

“Shit,” Seonghwa sat up straight for the first time during their whole conversation. “Did _you_ get someone pregnant?”

“No! What the fuck, Seonghwa- let me explain,” said man frowns, though the corner of his lips did little to nothing in covering how amused he was at his friends’ wild guesses, and how Hongjoong looks like he wants to drown himself in misery the more this conversation proceeds forward. 

“They were my friends? Childhood friends, I guess you can call them that - though I have no idea how they would look like and where they would be now, I just don’t want them to die or experience the things that is going on right now. They were a big part of my life and I don’t think I could stand and watch them burn as victims of the decisions they can not make for themselves,” Yunho tilts his head to scratch his not-itchy neck. “But it’s not obligatory for you all to follow me in tracing them back.”  
Wooyoung chokes on his drink, looking at his taller friend with disbelief. “The fuck do you mean, not obligatory? They’re important to you!”

“Yeah, to _ me _,” Yunho replies, pointing at the man who was disagreeing. “None of you have ever even met them.”

Seonghwa snorts at this, waving his hand like a worried mother. “Stop. It’s not like we’re completely helpless if we stray from our scheduled return for like a few days. Don’t act like we’re going to die, Yunho,” he threw the younger a smile, “we’ll help you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now i'm r e a l l y scared to show yall the next chapter bc weewoo


	3. it's too pointless.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> all to action, kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning : graphic depictions of violence, gore, graphic depictions of murder and blood and everything along with it. 
> 
> for the parts that has all the warnings above, i'm going to give a warning down there, too - so if you want to skip something, there's going to be signs that would help you avoid problems :)  
\+ shin ryujin appears YAY TO GIRL POWER IN THE MIDDLE OF ALL THESE M E N  
\+ italics are sometimes for 'human-language', yk. since ateez r aliens wee woo
> 
> ｗａｒｎｉｎｇ! : is for the start of the ( maybe ) triggering parts, and  
ɴ ᴏʀ ᴍ ᴀ ʟ : is for the end of it ( or where it stops being so gorey ), so you won't be missing any important storylines.
> 
> there's about two(?) of the m o s t disturbing parts, if i'm not mistaken - but this whole chapter is disturbing for some people so :')  
take care of yourself !!

F̴̡̟͐̇̌̄̂̌̾r̵̝̬̭̥̺͇̣̦̈́̓̅͊̆̉͛͘ͅi̴̖̱̱̱̭͛̄̀̌̚͝ͅg̵̡̫͎̎̓̇̃̑̆́̍͛̕h̵̙̉̍t̵̛̗͔̆̒̈́̔̉̂e̵̢͖̰͔͉͚̺̪̫͇͆̔͛ń̵̨͎͎̓i̷̢̹̰̰̜̼̤̼͍̊̈́̑̄͒̐ǹ̷͔̃͆͐̔͝g̵̨͙̦̓̏̇͆̈́̈́͆̕͠,̷̘͍̖̝̣͍͉͎͎̇͑̚ ̶̢̤͔͔͆͑͐͛̎̂̊̂͊̀l̷͕͐͑̃̄͑̏ĕ̶̱͕̮͈̠͑̔̀͝t̴̨̤̻̠̹̳͙̳͗̿̋'̷͎̣̪͙̭́̇̏̂͊ͅs̵̡̛̫̫̏̊͒̌͂͂ ̵̨̨͙̝̱̲͙̰̦̽̓͘g̵̡̠͈͔̩̩̩̘̀̅̕ͅe̶̢̧̞͑̊̓͗̂̾̀͝͠t̵̙̦̞̮̟͔̙̬̬̪̓ ̷͖̀̏͐͒̑̐̔͘͝ḃ̶̪̫̫̇̿͘͝ü̶̘͙̦̤͎̱͉͉̅͂̇̋̾r̸̗̳̩̟̻̣̥̳̮̪̈́̈́̈͑̿͂̄́ṋ̸̨̭̥̙̝̩̥̳̥̂̕i̵̳͎̥̝̭̿̎́̋̎̒̌͑́̇n̷̢͉͕͒̎͒͂͘͘͘̚g̶̫̼̟̓̌̆̋̑̒͛̏ ̴̤͖̦̇̓̔̍ń̸̢͓͎̞̓̆̓ǒ̸͈̊̾͛́͒̊̾w̴̙̜̗͙̭͚̣͈̆̀͌̊͊͊̃͜͠

**E A R T H **

**s a m e d a y**

“Listen up, assholes,” Hongjoong stabs his tracking device into his wrist, grimacing as he watches the blinking lamps fade away from view underneath his skin. “No one is expecting our arrival, and supposedly, we blend in just enough so that no suspicion whatsoever comes from the humans - but if you’re confused and you don’t know what to do, tap your wrist lightly three times and we’ll notice if you need help,” he points at Seonghwa, “this one is very fluent in human language, so he’ll run to help you if the time ever comes for it to be that way.”

“In the meantime,” Hongjoong scans the area around them, breathing in the weird air that is now filling up his lungs before looking back at the rest of his team, “pray to each and every one of your Gods.”

Jongho leads the way, eyes focused on his digitally enhanced compass - if it’s even possible to enhance anything Jongho has, since that’s literally what he does everyday; enhancing things - with Hongjoong by his side, his right hand hooked under Jongho’s shoulder to make sure the younger doesn’t trip on anything and set off any alarm as he used to do. . .a long time ago.

Granted, it made them face their enemies a lot faster and made them _ finish _a lot faster as an outcome, but Hongjoong just feels like that’s not a wise decision in a war this grand.

“What are we looking for?” Mingi asks, just a second away after finishing his sample-collecting on a gigantic tree they passed by a few seconds ago, now fixing his specs to make sure he can see what is on Jongho’s screen. “The first one,” Jongho responds, looking up from his compass to make a hand movement that would stop everyone behind him, pointing with his chin instead. “She’s right there.”

Jongho is pointing across a cliff; with depths unknown to his gadgets and their eyes, since it’s the darkest cliff they’ve found up until now, and there’s no telling what’s underneath them. Mingi heard the slight sound of water, though, flowing down even deeper into _ somewhere _, and though they might survive the fall - they’re not about to waste more time in being stuck in a cliff when their first survivor is just across this first obstacle. 

“Ah, it’s Ryujin,” Hongjoong lets his grip on Jongho’s shoulder go, moving to squint at the camps that stood right across from where they’re standing. “I’ve been wondering where she went for almost a whole year. Why is she here?”

“She set someone free from a torture system that included drowning the victims; she reportedly swam towards them and set them free, brought them to their ship but they managed to shoot her down and they’ve been trapping her here eversince,” Jongho replies, fingers moving fast. “There’s no update of her since then.”

“Since then?” Seonghwa frowns, “That sounds like a long time ago. Why did they put her as a priority, then - if they didn’t even have the time to make sure she’s worth saving?”

“Because she’s worth saving either way, Hwa. She’s been leading a batallion since their former leader died, and she’s got the rest of her member’s coordinates imprinted on her brain, basically,” Jongho cringes. “Which is why. . .even if they dissected her - we must take that brain back no matter what.”

Hongjoong looks back at the rest of their friends, trying to mask his sympathy to Ryujin, since the rest of them seem like they’re not too affected about her rumoured death. “Mingi,” he starts, ignoring the way his voice croaks, “do you still remember how to fly a human-airplane?”

The red-head almost complained, his eyebrows knitted together in a post-argument but ignored by his Captain - since that, apparently is an order, and not a question. “Fuck,” Mingi curses, putting his bag down, “Sure, Cap. I sure hope so.”

Yunho dives into Mingi’s backpack, hands searching for a rope he supposedly packed into the backpack - the same rope that made Mingi pout for a whole hour straight because it’s ‘so heavy, Yunho, why don’t you bring it yourself?’. Yunho finds the rope he’s looking for, pulls it out to show Hongjoong his plan.

“The same way we’ve always done it, Captain. We use the trees,” he shows Hongjoong his trusty smile, making sure that there’s no doubt in his voice as he does so. The only thing Hongjoong does is hum, and Seonghwa looks like he’s in a stable enough conversation with Mingi to not become a worrywart right _ now _, so Yunho proceeds with his plan - which includes Yeosang and Jongho.

Yeosang is; despite his very chill and blunt nature as a friend - very talented in handling sharp things. Yunho took notice of this when they first did whatever they’re doing right now. Back then, there were also no bridges, no ladders, and anything whatsoever that was built to make their pass to the other side easier - so they made their own bridge. Mr. Yeosang right here showed his skills in cutting a tree while producing little to no sound, and while back then he pushed the broken tree while Yunho is on top of it _ without telling him _that the taller would be alright and that he would land on his feet on the other side; this time around, Yunho is sure he’s got the hang of it.

Okay, so Yeosang didn’t push the tree.

He whispered to Jongho’s ears and corrupted him to make sure that his plan works, and that’s exactly what Jongho - with the strength of fifty-five-thousand men - did.

“You sure about this?” Yeosang appears from behind Yunho, his two lithe swords pointing out, ready to rock. Yunho replies with a confused hum while Yeosang gets to it, approaching close enough to not be hit by the sword but still able to watch the performer _ perform _. “Last time we did this, you screeched the whole way down,” Yeosang continues, giving Yunho a little smirk. “Are you sure you’re not going to wake the entire camp up this time?”

“No,” Yunho chuckles. “I’ve been practicing. It’ll look cool this time, I promise.”

Yeosang looks like it’s too hard for him to believe what Yunho just said, but stays quiet either way, a different kind of smile decorating his face now. “Well, we’ll see. Are you going to go climb this tree. . .or?”

“Ah, right.”  
Yunho grabs the rope he’s been carrying, trying to step on the tree’s branches without interrupting Yeosang and his very focused cutting, making sure that his movements are as quiet as he possibly allows them to be - finally being able to breathe after reaching the top of the tree. The air is slightly more damp at the top, and Yunho can see green, slippery things on top of the branch he’s now standing on - choosing not to tie the rope around _ that _since it’s too slippery even for his hands.

He resorts to tying the rope _ around _ the tree, making sure he double knot it since it looks like once is too soft and if the rope fails in saving _ him _ than maybe this whole mission is just a dumb suicide mission that he’s over-excited in entering. And that would be a bummer.

Yunho feels a vibrating knock from the bottom of the tree, and his eyes met Yeosang’s and Jongho’s, the two of them raising their eyebrows and throwing him an ‘OK’ sign. He gave them his consent on continuing with the plan as he hold on tight to the rope around his hips, and a loud thud meets the tree as it falls forward, Yunho coming down with it.

Before the tree can hit the ground across the cliff with a loud thud, Yunho slips away from his steady position to jump off the branch he was standing upon, managing to get a stable stance on the ground before he reaches out to stop the tree trunk from hitting him on the head and squashing him like a worthless bug.

Luckily for them, Yunho claims to be strong in his own way - definitely not in the Jongho way - and his self-proclamation is true, for the time being. He does manage to stop the tree from squashing him and making a loud noise that would alert the humans that is holding Ryujin hostage, and he manages to put the tree on the ground lightly to make a bridge for the rest of them.

Hongjoong’s eyes lit up with his smile as he threw Yunho a thumbs up, and he can see Seonghwa holding his chest in a panicked-mother kind of way, and when he catches Yunho’s glare, Seonghwa frowns like a mother ready to scold his son.

Yeosang chuckles; Yunho can’t _ hear _him, but the shoulder movement sure does look like the other male is laughing at something - and he crosses the tree-bridge first, jumping lightly like a fairy with his coat following behind him and his hood slightly revealed. Yunho feels his heart softening. 

Yeosang lands right beside Yunho, who halts his untying-rope activity just to watch the other cross gracefully; and gave the taller a smile. “That _ is _pretty cool,” Yeosang nods in acknowledgement, reaching out to help the frozen-like-a-deer-in-headlights man to untie the rope around his hips. 

Seonghwa came across next, determined to slap the back of Yunho’s neck and doing exactly what he came to do, holding himself from a lengthy scolding just because he’s sure he’s not able to keep his voice stable and low enough to not alarm the humans who are now just a few feet away from them. Yunho mutters a ‘Sorry’, and that was enough for Seonghwa, who is now reaching out to help Mingi walk on the wobbly tree trunk so that Jongho who came last won’t just fall down the cliff and die. That would suck.

“We have to demolish the evidence,” Hongjoong stares at Jongho, who is already moving to shift the tree trunk away from the cliff, before a light click is heard from behind them.

Seven heads move in unison, looking at a soldier who is now taking a piss in ease, noticing the seven other men but not doing anything about it since he thought that they’re just going on patrol around the camp. Soon, though, he would notice the tree trunk and ask questions. 

Hongjoong signaled Jongho to go at it faster, and the youngest compelled - without wasting more time, he pushes the rest of their evidence into the dark, endless pit that was the cliff.

_ “Woah, what were y’all doing here?” _ the soldier human speaks up, eyes squinting to adjust to the dark. Seonghwa walks near him, trying hard to decipher the human language he’s been learning so hard to master for years. _ “W-we. . .” _ Seonghwa frowns, seeing the shadow of someone familiar behind the curious soldier.

_ Ah, _ Seonghwa nods to himself. _ “Come here. We want to introduce you to someone,” _ he motions the human to come closer to the cliff, his arms opened in a friendly motion - remembering how stupid and dumb humans can be when they’re assured that you’re a friend, not an enemy. Though, supposedly, you’d have to know that Seonghwa is an enemy - his yellow, snake-like eyes prove that he is, and if you fail to see that; whatever happens next is on you.

_ “What? Who? Did you push someone in there?” _ the human asks again, and Seonghwa is still wearing that same smile he’s been sporting the whole time.

_ ｗａｒｎｉｎｇ! _

_ “Oh, no. Not me,” _ Seonghwa nods to the man’s back as he turns around, eyes wide in concern and something else. The man is now face to face with San, eyes glowing red even when the light comes from behind him.

San is quick to plant his sharp fingers into the human’s throat, making it impossible for the human to call out for help from other humans that might discover who they are and why they’re here. He pulls out something that looks like a stretched out plastic, and it took San a second of him tilting his head to figure out that the action is causing pain to the human, who is gushing out warm, red liquid onto San’s otherwise very clean uniform. He grins, eyes glowing even brighter.

“I don’t think this one can converse with you anymore, Hwa,” San pouts, clicking his tongue. “I think that means you won’t need your tongue anymore?”

San reaches in to the man’s gaping mouth, face twisting in wonder when he pulls out the tongue, now cut off from the choking man’s insides. “Woah,” he shows his findings to the rest of his team, “these tongues have no bones in them. It’s also connected to the rest of his throat-things. They’re all flappy and. . .eugh.”

He sighs, disinterested. “If there’s no bones in you, you’re not a price for me to take home,” San threw the tongue into the cliff, scoffing when he finds the man on his knee, drowning in his own pool of blood. “What? Can’t live without a tongue?” he kicks the man into the dark abyss, taking off his outer uniform to throw it in there too, disgusted of the warmth the red-liquid gave him. “Weaklings.”

ɴ ᴏʀ ᴍ ᴀ ʟ

Hongjoong goes back to massaging his temple, thinking of all the wonderful reasons why he recruited San and Wooyoung into his team all those motherfucking years ago; even though he’s sure the two is more in need of a mental support from a place where nothing will trigger their hostility. But here they are, with two crazy creatures in his team being labeled an international hero, and sometimes their little acts rub off on his other, supposedly non-crazy and life-threatening friends. Like Seonghwa, who watches this all go down with a bored look on his face.

“Count that as one, would you?” San whispers in Wooyoung’s ear, and Hongjoong notices how the latter cracks his neck while showing a displeased look on his face. _ And Wooyoung is going to try to one-up San, _ Hongjoong sighs, _ again. _

“Okay,” he begins, walking forward to the first tent he sees, since the entrance is opened and clipped onto its sides; meaning that the tent belongs to, hopefully - the man who just died. “We’re going to kill nobody else unless it’s absolutely necessary or if they are a danger to Miss Ryujin’s livelihood, okay?” Hongjoong looks at each and every one of his friends, especially San and Wooyoung, who are still communicating with their telepathy power, or whatever they have among themselves.

“Or not. Duck!” Jongho exclaims, and luckily for him, they did what he asked without question; since not even a second after Jongho said what he needed to, the tent they are in is torn open by the force of a gigantic transportation vehicle - something that Seonghwa refers to as a ‘tank’ when it flies above their heads. 

The eight creatures crawl away to find a hidden place immediately, noticing how there’s no roof over their head that would cover their existence anymore - and Hongjoong decides to peek from his hiding place, frowning when he realizes whatever the fuck is happening outside. 

The camp that was once peaceful is now ruined, the tents all ripped in half because of things being thrown at them; there’s one human that is squished underneath the flying ‘tank’, and as Hongjoong assumed, would be dead soon - even though he’s still writhing in pain right about now. The source of all this mess is none other than the survivor they were supposed to rescue, Ryujin herself.

She’s leaping from one tent to another, eyes glowing in anger while the pink-haired looks like she could kill each and every single human in this place. Hongjoong watches as she took one of the long wooden sticks that kept the tent from falling off, raising it on top of her head as she watches the tent unfold, shouting a war-like shout as she stabs the stick she was holding onto another human’s eyes. Hongjoong watches as the stick went through the human’s skull and notes how they shouldn’t look down on Ryujin’s strength.

“Captain!” Jongho shouts, trying to reach their Captain in the middle of all this mess and how loud the entire situation is. “That’s Ryujin!”

“Yes, I know!” Hongjoong replies, looking back at the situation.

“Well?! Do we help her?!” Yunho asks, though Hongjoong can’t pinpoint where exactly the taller is, since all he heard of him is his voice. It took Hongjoong about 5 seconds to think about it, before he rolls his eyes - dreading what’s going to happen next. “Let’s go.”

Hongjoong stood up right when he heard a gunshot - and this made him frown, eyes focusing on trying to find where Ryujin is and hoping that she won’t give up that easily. He remembers seeing her whole upper body bandaged messily all the way up to her neck, and that would mean she’s done it on her own or that she hasn’t completely healed from her previous wounds. She won’t need another one. 

That one gunshot triggers a couple of different ones, all of them coming from behind the tank where one human was squished under - apparently the rest of them used it as a barrier between them and Ryujin; who is distracted with ripping the head off of the first shooter. 

Seonghwa decided to be the cool-headed one in this scenario as he struts down the battlefield, ignoring how the bullets could just hit his head if he’s a half-millisecond too late while also noticing how Ryujin is looking at him weirdly from across the field - her head tilted into something akin to scanning the older creature. 

He glances at her for a short while, letting their eyes meet as he introduces himself as the first one of Ryujin’s kind and that she’ll meet a lot more of them a bit later - and he smiles at her.

Ryujin still looks perplexed, and maybe a little bit under the effect of a medicine, since Seonghwa notices the bloody bandage on her wrist and nods to himself, knowing the answer to why Jongho was so frustrated about their first mission being absolutely still and not moving at all. They took her tracking device out of her skin.

He marches over to her, praising the fact that Ryujin doesn’t move away at all - holding her eye-contact with the older creature. Seonghwa knows he can be quite scary. He deems Ryujin worthy of being a leader after all, and he gives her a curt bow. 

“Greetings, Miss Ryujin. We praise you for your-” a stray gunshot hits the younger’s shoulder as she was listening to Seonghwa and she quickly falls on her knee to avoid getting more hits, her face grimacing at the quiet pain the new wound gave her, and this made Seonghwa turn around, betrayal written across his face. “I was _ talking _,” he pulls the lid of a bomb with his teeth, rolling it slowly until it hits the tank where most of the men were hiding in, “you assholes.”

Seonghwa clears his throat, straightening out his creased uniform. “As I was saying,” he smiles, forgetting the fact that Ryujin is in pain. This erases the smile off Seonghwa’s face as he sighs, picking the younger up to jump off the upside down car they were standing upon - hiding behind it instead as he claps two times, summoning a very distracted San and Wooyoung.

“Oh,” Wooyoung laughs, pointing at the pink-haired creature. “You found her.”

“Mmhm,” Seonghwa mumbles, shoving the two beside a very disturbed Ryujin while he walks off again, to the distance. “I have to find my first-aid kits. In the meantime, I trust you two enough to hide her from inflicting more pain for herself?”

San and Wooyoung looks at each other, at a loss for words. 

San talks first, frowning in curiosity. “What does Seonghwa even mean? I don’t talk Doctor, you know?” he shrugs, facing Ryujin; who is now leaning against the back of the car with her eyes closed - and he sits down across from her, maintaining a respectable distance. “I don’t talk babysitter either,” Wooyoung grimaces, putting his gun back into their place.

“Um. . .hey,” San waves a hand across Ryujin’s face, waiting for the pink-haired to open her eyes. “Let’s. . .I don’t know,” he steals a glance at Wooyoung, who lifts his shoulder, confused. “Share our feelings?” San concludes, ignoring the obvious confusion he’s spread on the two other people beside him.

“How do you feel after killing all those men who cut you open and made you nothing more but an experiment, for example?” he continues, an awkward smile decorating his face. Wooyoung feels bad for his friend, nodding along with the same smile while muttering out a quiet, “Yeah.”

Ryujin looks back and forth between the two that she knows all too well. She’s seen their faces everywhere, and it’s almost as if the heavens has blessed her with too much information today, since she never really wished to have a conversation with _ three _out of a few thousand of the nation’s heroes - but here she is.

“She looks frightened, San,” Wooyoung comments, still wearing the same smile on his face. “Ah, shit,” San replies, scratching his neck.

“I. . .” Ryujin chimes in finally, feeling bad that she makes the people she respects feel this way. Wooyoung and San’s focus came back on her, and now she feels like a baby trying to sputter her first words with her parents looking at her with high expectations. “I feel great. . .?” she continues, an awkward grin resting at the corner of her lips.

Wooyoung responds with and almost immediate laugh, and all San did was smile like a proud dad - but Ryujin felt as if she’s completed her whole life’s goal, a big boulder lifted off her shoulders.

These two should be thankful that Ryujin respects her nation’s heroes more than anything, because if they’re not - the whole conversation would’ve gone the other way, even if the younger’s shoulder is dislocated from a stray bullet.

*

“You really just can’t stay put, huh?” Seonghwa fights off a motherly smile as he patch-up Ryujin’s wound with a cleaner bandage, and the pink-haired smiles despite her scrunched up face from holding back the pain. “Well,” she chuckles, “Wooyoung and San told me that if I play their game it would make the pain go away, so.”

“Uh huh,” Seonghwa gave her a look, “and how does that work for you?”  
“N-not good at all, Mr. Doctor,” Ryujin replies, using her other arm to lift the one which is covered in bandages - and she scoots over to the edge of her seat when she hears Seonghwa chuckle at the nickname she gave him out of nowhere. “Exactly,” the older claims, putting his stuff back together in his shiny, white suitcase. “Don’t listen to Wooyoung and San. They’re a bit too hyper to be tolerated by anyone, especially when you’re trying to heal after going through a lot of-” he trails off, a bit panicked because he forgets how to control his little talks once again.

“A lot of dissection?” Ryujin chimes in, a little nod following suit. “It’s okay. I don’t want to avoid talking about it.”

She jumps of the seat, heading towards the window. There’s a familiar look in the younger’s eyes that Seonghwa isn’t able to pinpoint, but he mustn’t dwell on that right now. 

“Stay right here, okay?” he pats her unwounded shoulder lightly, rushing to pick up the helmet that was laying around in the corner of the quiet room they are situated in. “We’ll be back as soon as I find the rest of my friends. . .and maybe some other survivors, if we’re fast enough,” he mumbled the last part, stretching his arms to give Ryujin a weapon he’s been hiding behind a shelf this whole time.

“You know what to do when it gets suspicious?” he questions, responded by a very quick nod from Ryujin’s part as she takes hold of the weapon with her available arm. “The sooner we go at it the sooner we get to leave, right, Mr. Doctor?” she raises an eyebrow, and even if Seonghwa feels something not right about the way she asks him this, he stays quiet; choosing instead to hum as an answer before hopping out of the spaceship which turned invisible almost immediately.

Seonghwa gave the invisible ship one last look before bolting away, secretly wishing that the young one won’t do anything stupid.

~

“Do you still remember the question I gave you, Mingi?” Hongjoong shouts at the other man while he leaps off of a rolling vehicle, slipping himself beside it just in time to avoid being crushed. Mingi, who fortunately for them is just a few centimetres away, responds almost immediately - though this was done with him pulling a weird face instead of an answer like Hongjoong wanted it to be. “W-what question, Captain?” Mingi bounces the question back at the exasperated leader, who is still shooting bullets mercilessly into a human-soldier.

“The one about the human-airplane?”

Mingi felt his soul flying out of his body when he heard Hongjoong’s reply, choosing to kneel down - in time to avoid a hit from San, too, who was aiming at someone in front of Mingi; but he could’ve been easily hit if not for the question that is making him weak in the knees.

“Y-yes, Captain. I remember!” he shouts back as a reply, still in the same spot he was at this entire time. Hongjoong ordered him to do something as a response, but his voice was drowned by a grenade’s explosion that was caused by Yeosang just behind him - and Mingi stood there, stunned. “Huh?”

Instead of founding Hongjoong, Mingi watches silently as San does his over the top - and maybe endangering his own safety - backflip over a flipped over tank, and he waits as patient as he can be while the smaller lands on his feet. San runs his fingers through his hair, patting a part of his sleeve that was lit on fire as he finds Mingi’s eyes and holds their gaze together.

“‘Well go fucking fly it, then,’” San grins.

“I know where it might be,” Yeosang chimes in, joining in the conversation after appearing out of nowhere - the _ clink _of his two swords very apparent when he inserts them back into their places. 

Mingi tries his best to keep up with Yeosang’s pace, cursing under his breath when the younger won’t stop switching lanes between a rocky and steep ones and the ones where Mingi can actually walk on peacefully. There’s something about Yeosang that reminds him of a fairy, very light and graceful on his feet but Mingi sure as hell doesn’t need to be reminded of it right about now; where his mind is already filled with the duty of brainstorming his rehearsals from about 20 - 30 centuries ago to find out how the fuck he’s supposed to fly a human-airplane.

He’s going to break a few bones, that’s for sure.

“-Gi?” Yeosang’s voice enters his clouded mind as the smaller comes into his peripheral vision, and Mingi stops dead in his tracks. “Here,” he tries pulling the vines off a small, abandoned building; since the thick veins are covering up their only entry. Yeosang can easily slice them off, for sure - but they don’t know what’s inside and they won’t risk losing their only chance of diversion because of their own fault.

They’ve been through that. It wasn’t fun.

The metallic door creaks when Mingi forcefully opens it, and he stifles a gasp; looking to their right and left to watch if there’s anyone around before actually entering the dim-lighted human-airplane container building.

“I’m coming with you,” Yeosang comments, slipping right into the open seat of an aircraft - not giving Mingi any time to protest. “Wait, no,” the redhead realized a bit too late, since Yeosang has already situated himself pretty comfortably with a safety belt around his chest. “You’ll need someone to distract the humans even more so you can just focus on flying this damn thing, Mingi,” Yeosang snaps his fingers, pointing down at the empty pilot seat after motioning Mingi to get closer, “sit.”

“Oh. So what are you going to be doing back there?” the other questions again, awkwardly positioning himself on the pilot seat. Yeosang rolls his eyes dramatically, putting his hands around the guns in a tight grip, “I’ll shoot their dumb asses, Mingi. Manually. With these literal guns - I like to think I have quite a good aim. Unlike you, I actually _ remember _the contents of our training camp’s program.”

Mingi took a chance to elbow Yeosang in the head while he gets into the cockpit, scoffing while his eyes took in the view he’s displayed with right now.

“Okay. How do we make this thing go, again?”

?

Wooyoung has been restless. 

No, he likes to think that he never takes his little competition with San to heart - but apparently, since the other has already brutally murdered a pesky little human last night and he _ had _to whisper in Wooyoung’s ears about how he should include that in his body count, Wooyoung hasn’t really stopped trying to stab someone’s eye out.

San really likes collecting the ‘bones of his enemies’ - that’s what he calls them, but apparently, he doesn’t think that humans are included in those tags. _ ‘You consider them your enemies, Woo? Haven’t we been cleaning _ pests _ this whole time?’ _is something close to what San told him a little bit after Seonghwa took Ryujin away from them, claiming that the two did a bad job at babysitting. 

Wooyoung curses at how cool San can be from time to time, but he’ll never admit it out loud. 

But here he is, still riled up from what his ‘rival’ told him. Wooyoung likes to think that half of it is because he definitely hates what these humans do to his kind; for example Ryujin, and that meeting the younger, tortured creature has definitely fueled up his anger. Or maybe he just likes doing what they’re doing right now! That can’t be all that bad, can it?

Especially when he hears Hongjoong’s voice calling out to them, claiming that he’s found something important.

_ Great, _Wooyoung thought to himself. After Mingi and Yeosang went off on that human-airplane to distract most of the human-soldiers that were after their asses, there was literally nothing much for him to do. It would be fun if he had San around to brag to the other about how many human-eyeballs he had dug out from their skulls, but Wooyoung hasn’t seen the other ever since they split up, chasing their own prey.

Wooyoung senses Hongjoong’s voice from inside a building a few feet away, and luckily for him - they left the door wide open, and he caught a glimpse of Yunho and Jongho by Hongjoong’s side, the three of them facing _ someone _; tied on a chair with a broken nose, the red liquid they saw this morning coming from the man whose tongue got ripped off by San flowing out of this man’s nose, and Wooyoung is ultimately intrigued.

He doesn’t need to know where San is located. This is a bit more interesting.

“Captain!” he screeches, waving to the three a bit too dramatically. In a usual situation, Hongjoong would roll his eyes at him, telling him to watch how he situates himself in front of the eyes of the enemy; but this time - the older barely even looked at him. Wooyoung frowns, the lack of attention making him even more intrigued.

“I see you have a special person,” Wooyoung lets his hand travels across the human’s chest before he pushes him down, taking a good look at the groaning human while he positions his hands under the leaning chair to stop it from falling completely. “And who might this be?” he continues asking, more to Jongho or Yunho than either the human - _ who completely doesn’t understand him _ \- or Hongjoong - _ who has that certain fire in his eyes that means he’s offline for the moment unless it’s to bash someone’s head against the wall. _

“An intel,” Jongho responds, his jaw tightening. “Although I can assure you that he absolutely sucks-” “Jongho,” Yunho scolds the younger, eyes barely leaving the human that Wooyoung is currently trying to intimidate. “Right,” Jongho rolls his eyes, “he sucks - for sure - but he knew that we were going to be here.”  
“What?” Wooyoung tilts his head, still maintaining eye-contact with the human while doing so. “How does he know what the fuck is coming? Their technology, as I’ve been told,” he releases his hold on the chair, letting it tilt backwards until said human on top of it hits the floor with his head, a muffled sob coming from him, “is shitty as fuck.”

Jongho looks at Wooyoung, eyes tired.

“Someone _ told _him,” Jongho deadpans, “and then he compiles a master plan of his own to move the entire camp of our kind somewhere else - after digging out their tracking devices from under their skin.”

Wooyoung wills himself to stay calm.

“They moved them somewhere after hurting them, Wooyoung,” Yunho adds on, his hand circling around Hongjoong’s; who looks like he’s absent from the world right now. “How do you feel about your kind getting murdered?”

Jongho flinches when he hears something _ crack _from the human underneath them as Wooyoung turns around. Fortunately for him, Yunho’s other hand - that wasn’t occupied with dragging Hongjoong away from the scene - is used to drag him; since Jongho isn’t sure if he could be that willing in letting Wooyoung fuck up another human’s life.

He stares deep into Yunho’s emotionless eyes as he wonders to himself about a few things he’s never asked anyone before.

ｗａｒｎｉｎｇ!

“You wanted to play dirty, you _ rat _ ?” Wooyoung questions the man, ripping the knot the other three has made around the human’s body, connecting him to the now ruined chair. Wooyoung feels a smile creeping up his face when the human frantically shakes his head, though he doesn’t understand a word Wooyoung is sputtering. “I like your will to live,” he continues, letting a giggle slip through, “makes me want to destroy it even more.”  
Wooyoung holds the human by his neck, feeling it crack a bit more by the pressure he’s putting on them - but not letting it crack completely since he doesn’t want to ruin the fun for anyone. 

_ Anyone. _

It seems like Wooyoung’s thoughts were perfectly timed, and right then and there; almost as if he can only come when it’s perfectly timed - San.

His cheek is slit open a little bit, but it seems like they’re healing quite fast since Wooyoung can’t identify if the other is either really wounded or if he’s putting on a show for nobody. When San’s eyes land on his, Wooyoung feels the corner of his mouth twitching, and the other apparently mirrored his action. “Ah, Wooyoung,” he muses, “I see you’re trying to get a head start?”

“Let’s not do this in front of a human, San,” Wooyoung clicks his tongue in annoyance, “these are not worth fighting for.” He makes a point in shaking the human’s body from the neck he’s holding onto - and another pained groan comes out of the half-alive human, now followed with something akin to the sound of him choking. Wooyoung grins.

He flips the human roughly enough so that his back lands straight on the ground with a crack, looking back into the defenseless creature’s eyes with his own, glowing ones. San watches in amusement, covering the bottom half of his face to make sure their victim isn’t about to see him breaking into a laugh in the middle of - what seems to be - Wooyoung’s little interrogation round. Though it can’t be an interrogation since Wooyoung learnt nothing about the human language.

“This one,” Wooyoung chirps, making his voice high-pitched and crazy sounding so that everyone could understand the dark underlying tone beneath his words, even though they might not understand what he’s _ saying. _ “I’m going to totally obliterate this one,” he continues, missing the way San’s eyebrow cocks upwards in confusion while he watches as Wooyoung reaches behind him for his little dagger; the one he usually only uses for emergencies - like if he gets his weapons stripped off of him or if he’s hanging upside down while his feet are tied to a tree?

“Say,” the smaller man leans in closer to the human, who is now closing his eyes - refusing to give Wooyoung what he wants, “if I heard it right, you. . . knew that we were coming?”

_ Stab. _

San grimaces, letting a little ‘Ooh,’ slip between his lips when the human roars in pain, twitching in his place wildly like a worm after someone pours salt all over them. Wooyoung tsk-ed, running a hand through his hair as he maneuvers himself so that his right foot can deliver a strong kick to the human’s lower body, demanding silence. 

“Oh, come on,” Wooyoung rolls his eyes, “it’s just a stab to your stomach. Man up, you little shit.”

He digs in deeper to the wound he’s just created, his fingers’ grip on the handle of his dagger not weakening, even though every second that passes is a second where the human draws closer and closer to death. “You did mess around a bit with my kind, huh?” Wooyoung pulls the dagger out, slowly inching it closer and closer to the human’s wrist, leaving a bloody trail behind, “Digging into their skin, maybe? Pulling out the one last thing they have to protect themselves, to send signals back home?”

He wastes no time, positioning the pointy edge of his weapon into the human’s wrist as the creature lets a loud sob rack through his body - his other hand not occupied by Wooyoung flailing around in search for help.

_ Stab, stab, stab. _

San whistles at Wooyoung’s decision of stabbing the human’s wrist three more times, letting his eyes crinkle in laughter as he decides to step in - _ literally _stepping on the human’s other hand to help his friend shut down their victim.

Wooyoung crawls above the human’s lifeless body, laughing at how pathetic the tear-streaked face of the human, now only a few inches away from entering the gates of death. 

_ “Say my name when you see Lucifer, you asshole,” _ Wooyoung smiles down at him, liking the way the human’s pupils blew out when he realizes the fact that this alien over here is able to speak human-language. The smiling man left a quick pat across the human’s forehead next, leaning away from the human’s face as he gets up on his feet.

There’s a sense of peace when the human’s mind suggests to him that Wooyoung is leaving, but just as he thinks that way - said creature comes back, full force in his balled fist as he lands a punch down the human’s throat.

“Fucking asshole,” Wooyoung scoffs, trying to pull the dagger out from the human’s wrist, failing a few times before he pulls it out by force - leaving messy cuts and open wounds across the human’s arm. “What if he’s not dead enough, though?” San chimes in, the bottom of his lips jutting out because he wasn’t given a chance to do anything to the human.

Wooyoung raises an eyebrow, looking at San and then the human, and then back at San. He points out his index finger, motioning for the other to look at the pool of red-liquid surrounding the human, drowning him in his own bodily fluids. 

“If he’s not dead, he’ll be in some more pain, and then he’ll die,” Wooyoung croaks out, his voice faltering. “I’m fucking hungry, dude. Let’s go.”

San lingers for a moment or two, scanning the messy cuts on the human’s arm, noticing how something familiar is peeking through its freshly cut flesh.

ɴ ᴏʀ ᴍ ᴀ ʟ

“San! Come on, I’m not going to let you collect the bones off of _ my _bodies!”

He hears Wooyoung shouting from the distance, the frustration still visible even though the smaller is about a few feet away from him. San laughs, picking up his weapon he has been putting beside him this whole time before moving forward to follow the footsteps of his friend, who is now running excitedly towards their invisible spaceship.

San has something in his mind, though, but he’ll keep it for later.

“Woo! Do you think Yeosang and Mingi is back, too?”

!

Jongho tries to eye Yunho up and down as quietly as possible, not wanting to raise suspicion - though the older can never be suspicious, Yunho thrives off of attention, as the rest of the team do. 

He’s not trying to imply that there’s been something a bit off about Yunho ever since they started their mission; but that’s exactly what Jongho is trying to imply. It’s nothing extraordinary, obviously, since Yunho has been doing whatever Yunho sets his mind to do, but there’s a few examples Jongho just can’t put to sleep without discussing.

Yunho has been. . .well, manipulative.

Jongho feels bad that he’s thinking about the friend he trusts very much this way, but he just can’t help it. The first time he’s seen it was when they were back at their headquarters, when Yunho stormed into Hongjoong’s chamber without knocking, with a paper in his hand and an excited grin spread across his face. Hongjoong almost scolded him for not knocking, but then Yunho switches his expressions to one that makes him look like he’s been running ten miles per hour as an abandoned puppy, and now the same puppy finally finds water.

You know the one.

Yunho told them that they’ve received a letter. They usually have assistants who would take their letters for them, and who would send them straight to Hongjoong if they deem it important enough. Why did Yunho have it?

Hongjoong repeatedly refused the mission after Yunho showed it to him, and the very last time he refused he even crumpled the paper and threw it to the wall just behind Yunho - but they ended up accepting the mission, either way. Why? Because of _ Yunho _, who were pushing the buttons that he knew all too well would work perfectly with Hongjoong.

They do manage to save Ryujin, but for what cost? Jongho sincerely doubts the fact that it’s always going to be this easy for the rest of their mission, and what - they promised Yunho that they would help him save the rest of his family, too?

The second - last one Jongho has seen; at least up until now, is just recently.

A few minutes before Yunho dragged him and Hongjoong out of the building they summoned Wooyoung into, and a few seconds _ after _they got Wooyoung in the building.

There is no secret that Wooyoung and San were the two hidden weapons Hongjoong has been hiding every time they do important missions, and these two are the same people who made the whole country questioned Hongjoong’s sanity and decision-making when he finally revealed that Wooyoung and San were a part of his team this entire time.

And that’s caused by one thing and one thing only.

Wooyoung and San, though the latter falls into this category much deeper than the first one - are a bunch of sadists. This fact is simply proven by how many fallen enemies they’ve conquered even though they never needed that many people to _ die _. Hongjoong never asked for them to be this forward in taking people’s lives. They do so themselves.

San usually sets a list of how many people they’re looking forward to ‘eliminate’, and Wooyoung would follow suit - or maybe trying his best to win against San in their muted competition, and though the rest of them never got the juicy secret of whenever Wooyoung and San want to ‘go crazy’, they usually try their best to not trigger the two’s interest in making people bleed and die.

_ But this time? _

He saw with his own eyes and listened with his very much working ears when Yunho asked Wooyoung the questions that everyone knows would very much trigger the small but crazy creature. Reminding Wooyoung that there are others like Ryujin that is still being cut open and murdered on a surgeon table? Asking him how he feels about it? Repeating the very descriptive nature of ‘cutting them open’ and ‘dissecting them’? Jongho won’t even be surprised if he heard that Wooyoung takes great measures into cutting the human open just to kill him.

Why would Yunho want Wooyoung to treat his kind that way? Yunho _ is _a half-human, afterall. Won’t it tug on his heartstrings a little bit, supposedly?

Jongho takes another look at Yunho, finding the fact that the older is already looking at him, eyes still stoic and dead as he was a few moments ago - now only gaining the darkness. Fortunately, Jongho is quick witted, and he immediately lifts his tracking device to cover Yunho’s glance towards his face; that might give out the fact that he’s nervous.

“Look,” Jongho nods at the screen of his device, thanking their Superior Ones that his voice doesn’t falter, even if his busy thoughts might be visible somewhere else. “What am I supposed to be seeing, Jongho?” Yunho replies, unamused.

When the younger lowers his device, he finds the fact that Yunho’s gaze is frozen onto his face. _ Ah, shit, _ Jongho looks away, trying to work a plan to life.

“Seonghwa,” came into his brain instead, and his brain automatically makes his lips move into saying the older’s name. Yunho looks at him with uncertainty for a split second, his eyebrows furrowed in the middle of his forehead before he looks away from Jongho when a bush rustles not that far away from where they are located.

Voila. 

Seonghwa really came out of the bushes, confusion written across his face as he comes face to face with the three comrades he least expected to see. His expression mirrored Hongjoong’s, apparently, as he reaches out to touch their Captain’s forehead. 

“What are you three doing here? What happened to Captain? Why does he look like he’s about to pass o-”

He wasn’t able to finish his sentence, apparently, since Hongjoong does exactly that. He passes out against Yunho’s arms, the two other standing beside the tall man hurrying to catch their Captain before his knees so much as touch the ground.

Seonghwa looks the most distressed he’s ever looked, with worry shining through his eyes and as he looks back and forth between Yunho and Jongho - who are beginning to share his panic. “Okay, okay, calm down. Let’s just bring him back inside the ship. He’ll be fine.”

Shocked is an understatement for Ryujin, who eyes Mr. Doctor - Seonghwa - and the three other men he entered the ship with, and though Seonghwa is little to not shocked at all at the view he’s been displayed with; also known as Ryujin with one of their weapons pointing said weapon at their faces, the other three is a bit more dramatic than our calm and peaceful Mr. Doctor.

“Woah, the fuck-” Yunho exclaims, almost as quickly as he entered; tried to pull the unconscious Hongjoong out of Seonghwa’s arms to retrieve him to the outside world.

“Calm down, Yunho,” Jongho protests, his face being the first victim of Yunho’s back that slaps him flat against his _ now _squished face. “That’s Ryujin, our first survivor.”

Ryujin, noticing that Mr. Doctor is with the three other unidentified men, lowers her weapon to the ground before running as quick as she can to Seonghwa’s side, helping him carry the unconscious Hongjoong and put him on the little bed that was set up on the corner of the room. Seonghwa gave her a little smile as a sign of gratitude before he told Ryujin that she needs to be resting, too, and that he’s got it, so there’s no need for Ryujin to worry.

The ship’s door creaks as it closes, but no one pays attention to the familiar sound of Wooyoung whining about food when both he and San slips in before the door manages to fully close.

“Seonghwa?” Yunho inches closer to the bed where the older is sitting on, taking a closer look at Hongjoong. “Is he okay?”

There’s a pause in the room as Seonghwa delays himself from answering the question, it feels like if a pin drops in the room right about now, everyone might be able to hear it loud and clear. The pause is uncomfortable, too silent that it feels like they can hear ringing in their ears, and almost. . .suffocating. 

“We’ll have to wait and see, Yunho.”

%

San is pacing around the room, sometimes stealing glances to where Hongjoong is still passed out - and his eyes would soften immensely - before he starts pacing again, trying to be as quiet as possible since every one of his friends are asleep; not including Ryujin, who is awake but does not mind with whatever he is doing. She would just occasionally give him a questioning look, in which San would just shrug as a response, and then she’d go back to picking apart the weapon at hand, claiming she could enhance it a little bit more if she’s given time to do so.

It’s been more than a few hours. Mingi and Yeosang still hasn’t returned.

Seonghwa told him to sleep three hours ago, trying to convince San that even if they can’t find Yeosang or Mingi’s tracking device right now, they will in the morning. The two are probably too far away to be tracked, but that’s just a sign of how much they want this mission to succeed, and San should probably be happy.

He can’t be.

“San?” Hongjoong’s voice startles both San and Ryujin, the two of them looking up at the Captain, who is now sitting up right with eyes as clear as day. He looks as if he hasn’t just passed out for a half portion out of the day. 

“Captain I-” San is cut off by Hongjoong, pressing his index finger to his lips. “Not too loud,” Hongjoong half-whispers, motioning for San to get closer _ quietly _.

The younger leans down to carefully let himself be seated beside his captain on the bed, trying not to move too much in case Hongjoong has some inward wound he doesn’t know about - or one that Seonghwa won’t tell them about. 

“They’re going to be fine,” the captain taps the other’s back softly, a little twinkle of fondness evident in his eyes, “do you not trust what Seonghwa has told you?”

San’s eyes went wide as he tries to defend himself, but stopping before he can proceed. There is no way in hell he could keep his voice down while he explains his worry, and he doesn’t really want to wake anyone up in this hour of the night - or maybe it’s morning already, San doesn’t really understand the way human hours works. 

“I do,” he concludes, looking back at Hongjoong. “I do. . .trust Seonghwa. I’m just worried - there’s almost little to no response coming from either Yeosang or Mingi, and those two are usually the noisiest when it comes to missions that are separate from the main ones,” San chuckles, letting his shoulders slump as he leans against the wall, “or maybe I’m just over-reacting?”

Hongjoong decides against answering the question San muttered out to him, and instead focusing on calming the younger down. “We’ll find them, San,” he leans to the wall, too, “we’re not going to leave without them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and eye 00p.


	4. we're still young and wild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more questions while hongjoong experiences pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have decided to continue this gigantic piece of plot eventho by now it's beginning to look like a messy ball of threads. ik it's been a while but who even is waiting amirite lmao  
.  
.  
tw: gore, violence.  
*librae = the name of alien!teez and their alien friends. or i s it :)

** _??/??/????_ **

** _Earth - Section III - _ ** **Present Time**

Hongjoong turns around on the squeaky four-legged chair, one of his eyebrows cocked upwards in response to the weird noise he keeps on hearing. He sighs, slamming the journal he’s been reading to a close and putting them next to the metal container he’s been drinking out of, curious and kind of pissed because his meditation hours has been disturbed. 

Last time he heard weird noises, it was a bunch of rowdy teenagers who were laughing and screeching in fear at every weird attraction his humble abode has provided for them - and Hongjoong, even though he admits to himself that he doesn’t really have the time to fix the appearance of the worn out hospital at the moment; kinda took offense to the fact that some irrelevant group of kids called his home ‘scary’.

They went away after a while - okay, maybe Hongjoong _ did _take part in scaring them away, but that’s. . .a normal thing to do in defense of yourself, right?

This time the sound is a bit noisier - and it took the tired creature’s mind back to the time and place where he first landed here on earth - and makes him reminisce about some things he refused to see.

It sounds like a roaring vehicle is getting closer and closer towards the place he was sitting; or maybe below him, since Hongjoong is sitting in front of a pretty well kept room in the abandoned hospital, maybe at the second level or something - he forgot to count the floors he has been wandering off to. And there it is; the thing that disturbed his daily journal-reading, a rectangular object with four wheels carrying what seems to be a few humans in it. A motor vehicle, if Hongjoong remembers it clearly.

But he doesn’t know what it’s called.

It looks _ old _, but then again so does everything else around him - but the vehicle is made out of metal, the most basic type of one, and there’s little nails sprouting out of each windows' frame. Hongjoong frowns in interest when the vehicle stops.

It stops with a screech, but no one comes out of it for almost a full second.

He notices the few passengers inside it, watching the outside world from their front window, it being the largest window if compared to the other ones adorning the sides of their mode of transportation - only after a few minutes of waiting do the doors on the side slides open, revealing a curious little head, peeking out of the now stilled vehicle.

Hongjoong feels a familiar sense of mirth moving in his heart, but pays no mind to it as he, as quiet as he can, creeps away from the opened window to hide his existence - not wanting to scare or give a false sense of hope to the new visitors.

Because if Hongjoong is anything, he’s nothing but a predator to humanity.

They remind Hongjoong of his own friends, chattering and running around in the middle of the wide, empty space while worry runs across their little heads - and Hongjoong finds himself in a nostalgic time loop where he wants to remember a little bit more about his friends but the throbbing in his head every time he wants to do so stops him from doing exactly that.

He wonders what happened to them a lot, since apparently his journals stopped making sense after that one particular moment.

_ “I- I need to tell you something,” _ one of them chirps, voice almost too clear and pure that Hongjoong thought that he’s barely a little baby. He frowns, craning his neck so that he could hear a little bit clearer. _ “What is it, In?” _ another one responds, and Hongjoong finds himself entertained at the tone of his voice.

It reminds him of whenever. . .actually, what does it remind him of? Is there someone he’s supposed to remember?

_ “I think. . .I think I saw something scary, _ hyung _ ,” _ the first one says, now a little softer - but Hongjoong and his inclined ears can hear just about anything. And what was that, ‘ _ hyung _’? Is that the second guy’s name, or-

_ “You saw something scary, Jeongin? Where?” _ the second replies to Jeongin - apparently, Hongjoong mentally high fives himself after discovering this new discovery. _Woohoo, Hongjoong discovers the fact that humans have names!_ He then shifts away from where he was spying on them, afraid that the other guy would see him from this far; who is now looking around to try and find what Jeongin was so scared of around the deserted building.

_ “No, not here,” _ Jeongin continues, chuckling a little bit, _ “back in _ the _ place. I saw. . .” _ he trailed off, and Hongjoong tries his best to not be affected by the suspense.

_ “I saw _ myself, _ ” _ he finishes.

Hongjoong doesn’t manage to hear what the other’s response to it might be. 

_ “I saw another me. Like, like a _ clone _ of some sort, you know?” _   
Supposedly, Hongjoong and his limited knowledge about the human language would hear this and go, ‘huh?’, but this time it’s a little different. This time, he heard the young human boy telling a story that is seemingly supposed to be a secret for him and his friend, and he overheard this because he is around them at the moment - and something akin to a trigger was pulled inside him when he heard that word.

Clone?  
Hongjoong lets a gasp slip from his mouth before he is able to stop himself, the sharp pang of pain rendering him speechless as he crouches down, hands shaped into a protective defense around his throbbing skull while he tries his best to take in a deep breath. _ Calm down, Hongjoong, calm down- _

[ “T a k e y o u r p r e c i o u s l i t t l e m i n i o n s . . .” ]

[ “W e w o n ‘ t l e t y o u g o a f t e r-” ]

[ “M a y b e w e c a n u s e t h e i r b l o o d s a m p l e s, S i r.” ]

[ _ “Captain? Wake up, we have to continue running-” _ ]

[ _ “YUNHO!” _]

[ _ “We can’t leave San in there, we-” _ ]

_ “What the fuck?!” _

The dimly-lit room he’s currently lying in returns to Hongjoong’s foggy vision after he heard the exclamation coming from the floor below him, the chaotic echoing from the humans’ little argument party continues, teetering him on the edge of wanting to throw up or bang his head against the wall numerous times after coming back to reality from seeing. . . whatever the fuck he just saw. 

_ “Shit, run, run- we can’t be here, _ hyung _ , oh my God - are you okay?” _ another human voice pipes in, and Hongjoong almost had a whiplash from how familiar those words sound.

He tries his best to take a glimpse of the humans running around downstairs by leaning up against his elbow, the ringing inside his head appearing louder as each second passes, only for him to realize that it’s not in his head and the ringing is something that he can’t stop by hitting his head to the nearest wall. 

Something is chasing the few pair of humans down there, and Hongjoong isn’t sure if these predators would be nice to _ him _, especially since currently his mind is fogged up and playing tricks on him which usually results in his anxiety getting up to another level.

What did he even _ see?_

Hongjoong doesn’t even know that he has the ability to have memories flash before his eyes like that. Was it memories of a nightmare he once had? Or was it a vision? Or was that just. . .his imagination? Who were all those people he saw and heard?

He vividly saw the face of a person, one that stood out a little bit more than the rest because he was shouting at the top of his lungs. There were dried blood adorning the side of his face alongside this person’s jet-black hair which in return sticks to his forehead from sweat and, maybe, his own blood. This unknown person was looking back and forth to Hongjoong and another person, sitting half-dead across the room. And there were tears welling up his eyes when he stops shouting, leaning towards Hongjoong to whisper something into his ears - some of the words drowned from the hiccups that came along his sobs.

“Hongjoong- ** _open your eyes_ ** ,” he remembers exactly what the person says, and he _ did _.

He opened his eyes for a split second before his body convulsed in pain when something akin to electricity flows through every single part of his body, close to burning every single cell in his body to dust - and he felt an ache around his throat when his jaw opened in a silent scream, fists clenched to stop the pain from coming, but the more resistance he gave the more pain he received.

Hongjoong can feel his skin crawling just from replaying the vision he saw. 

_ Was those the guys from his journal? _

There’s still voices downstairs, but it sounds like they’re running further and further away from where Hongjoong is located at - and though the last thing he wants to do right now is trying to comprehend human language while a side of his head is throbbing, he might have to if he plans on living long enough to find out what the visions he’s been getting is all about.

_ “We have to leave the bus, _ hyung _ \- it’ll be too loud,” _ an odd voice pipes in to the conversation, this one oddly sounding very close to Hongjoong - more than the others. _ “Seo Changbin! Do _ not _ stray away from our plans- wait, where’s Woojin?” _

A chain of curses comes their way when three other humans; no, Hongjoong has seen them earlier, but it appears that they left the room not too long ago and now has returned - hurried into the room right when Hongjoong decided it might be nice for him to shift positions just so he can better see what’s going on a few feet below - only to come almost face to face with a silver, grey-ish hair right underneath the window frame he’s looking out of. 

Hongjoong holds his breath while staying very still, afraid that any little movement would alarm the human and blow up his cover.

Beside the silver-haired human, who is crouching down literally right under Hongjoong’s prying eyes, there’s another human who is a little bit smaller than the first one, his hair jet black and chopped a bit on the side with a tight, pure white uniform. Hongjoong noticed that every single one of them wear it, almost the exact same except for the size. 

He grimaces, taking a good look at their necks - where the buttons seem a bit too tight. 

There’s a rumbling sound outside, something that is similar to a machine turning on - which _ could _ be an actual machine being turned on; and Hongjoong hides a few seconds faster than the two humans as they jump _ up _instead of hiding, panic evident on their faces as they ran down a few flights of stairs towards the open entrance.

They’re shouting a name, someone’s name Hongjoong can’t quite catch and doesn’t really care to listen to intently - but when he stood up from his hiding place, confident that the rest of the humans won’t be able to see him from that far, _ there’s only 8 of them left. _

Hongjoong huffs, a bit bummed since he has to leave his secret hideout - _ his home _ \- since a few rowdy humans have decided that they’re going to stay there for the time being. They succeeded in discovering his humble abode, and there’s an expression on their face that makes Hongjoong feels unsafe, one that gives him the red-flag at an alarming rate - possibly because when they discover that someone lives in the abandoned hospital before them, they might go out and look for this someone, right?

And possibly kill him?  
So he’s now out in the woods, a pout evident on his face while he carries a few bundles he’s been keeping for some time now in case his home will be too dangerous to live in, someday. Well that someday is _ today _, Hongjoong thinks to himself gloomily, munching on the leftovers of rabbit brain he hasn’t finished eating.

His curious fingers flip the pages of the journal, not minding the rocky terrain he’s walking atop of as his eyes zoom on one page; one in particular that he’s been so keen on reading. It’s so mysterious, yet the memory is so fresh - unlike how he feels when he reads all of his other journal entries. Those felt like the writing of someone else’s hands and not his, but this entry in particular is just different. 

It’s a little bit torn here and there, but he can decipher his own writing. . .supposedly.

━━┛ ✠ ┗━━

_ Today was weird, to say the least. _

_ I have no idea why I ventured outside the safe and quiet place that I call home, and I have no idea how I came back safe and whole. It was scary, it gave me chills down to my bones. It was as if it has seen me before, and wanted to warn me about something. Its appearance was like something I have never seen before, though, and it frightened me to think that something like that exists. _

_ But then again, something like me exists. Something like us. But who is. . .us? _ _   
_ _ I have been struggling to remember. Please, remember, please help me remember. _

_ But I ran away before it could talk to me or give me anything, though it looks like my fear made it a little bit more afraid of me. It was a shy creature, I can say. _

_ It had something coming out of its head. _

_ It doesn’t look human, or is it? _

_ One of the things on its head was broken, though. What was it called? Is it horns? _

━━━┓ ✠ ┏━━━

Hongjoong curses at himself for not writing descriptively what he saw, but this is nothing new for him. He _ was _afraid to find things coming towards him if he as much as think of those things, so he didn’t write descriptively what scared him out of his mind.

What had horns on their heads, and one broken one at that?

His steps halted to a stop when the top of his shoes ran into something which made a clunking noise, and Hongjoong looks up from his journal to take a good look at the thing he just ran into. His eyes squinted softly to defy the pouring ray of light struggling to find entrance into his sensitive eyeballs, one that haven’t seen the light for a few years now, maybe.

It’s an airplane.

Hongjoong’s jaw fell open in surprise, and as he tries to keep himself composed, he puts all of his belongings down - making sure to keep an eye on them just in case someone or something comes out from the woods to steal them, or worse, kill him while doing so. 

'Why has he been so afraid to die these past few days?' This is the second time that his head voices out that thought.

The airplane is about two times his height, which makes the wings hover over his head slightly - and Hongjoong thanked his lucky gods that he is as small as he is, because if he’s at least a few inches taller he’d run straight into them while reading his journal eagerly. He took a few steps back, admiring the still strong body of the airplane even though it’s a little rusty, a little broken, and a little old.

Something was triggered in Hongjoong’s memory, and he reaches down to rustle around, fingers blindly looking for the leather cover of the journal. He read something about airplanes, he’s sure. Hongjoong doesn’t have the best memory, but he’s almost sure he told some random comrade to board a plane. Did they went missing?

“Hm,” he hums to himself, resting his tired arms on his hips while his eyes scans word per word of a journal he wrote a few years ago - which content now begins to confuse him. Why did they go missing? Why did he not continue his journal in search for them? He promised that other guy that they’re going to find their missing comrades. 

Hongjoong freezes on the spot, eyes focused on his own scratches of pen on top of each page, his fingers feel like they are unable to move - like they’re nailed to the page he stopped on. 

The page was decorated with blood, now dried and a bit black-ish - which is normal for their green and almost sickly looking blood. But Hongjoong did not freeze because of the extreme amount of dried blood covering the whole page.

Stuck in the middle of it, like a drill that was left halfway done, a little trophy. Something that _ someone _used to keep as a trophy, though of course Hongjoong never agreed on keeping souvenirs from the people they’ve turned into submission and the rest that they’ve killed. This one lunatic. . .one hell of a creature, he used to like collecting little bits and unique pieces off of the creatures they waged war upon and won.

Hongjoong let a sigh left his lips as the corner of his thumb grazes upon the spiky and unique small thing stabbed into the last page of his journal, his eyebrows furrowed together in search of a name.

He doesn’t even need to search for the name.

“S-San. . .?”

He _ remembers _. Hongjoong is sure with all of his heart that he is the one who remembers San’s name - and not because he’s been reading through his journal at least a hundred times and San’s name strikes him the most because that friend of his is dangerous to almost a serial killer degree - but he actually remembers.

It was as if there was a lightning that struck the inside of Hongjoong’s mind and he suddenly saw, breathe, and basks in the presence of San; and he, out of nowhere, appeared in Hongjoong’s mind. And now Hongjoong struggles as the stimulation of emotions and colours bursts inside his head as none other than his friend's face fades in, like a bad transition between their military classes and their very short breaks.

“San!”

Hongjoong blinks a tear, straying out of the corner of his eye. It has been so long - his mind has been empty and lonely for so long. There were no noise, no sound, no colour, and nothing. There were no feelings, he was left empty and void of emotions and it didn’t cause him any harm but holy _ shit _it has been so long since Hongjoong craves the existence of a friend.

He fell on his knees, nose scrunched from the sudden pang of loneliness which in result brought him pain. Hongjoong doesn’t know where the pain came from but he wants it to stop. There’s guilt, and he doesn’t even know what guilt means; who the guilt is for and what brought him here. He’s here, _ here _, why?

Why is he here? Why is he here alone?

“H-help,” he mutters, getting on his hands and knees to help himself stand while his eyes focus on nothing but the miniscule bone-thing San stabbed onto his journal all those times ago. Hongjoong can see his smile, it’s as clear as day. “Help me remember,” he says, louder this time, but he can also hear the vibrations through his vocal chords from how unstable his sobs are.

Hongjoong feels weak and alone.

“I _ want _to remember, please-”

There’s a warm feeling surrounding his arms, and only then does Hongjoong realize that his arms have been shaking at a serious amount of unhealthiness - and only a couple more seconds after that, he looked up in horror after realising that this is the feeling of having one’s hands circling around his.

“Get up,” this creature’s face lacks any emotion, but the certain tinge in his voice brings Hongjoong back to a time where he’s _ not _kneeling on the ground, crying for San to come back. His face is constructed like humans, though Hongjoong’s case is not so different - but there’s something that tells him that this creature is inhuman. Maybe it’s the smile that is curling up on this creature’s lips?

“Come on, _ Captain _, get up,” he repeats, now leaning in to help Hongjoong get on his feet with both of his hands. Hongjoong looks like a deer in the headlights, jaw left hanging open and a few fresh streaks of tears now on their way to drying on top of his shaking cheeks. 

“Is this. . .” Hongjoong’s hand comes across the front of this creature’s vest, a uniform he’s far too familiar with, only for him to look down on himself and find out that he’s wearing the exact same thing. “I-” he looks back up at the creature, who is still sporting a little fond smile on his face. “Y-Yeosang?”

** _01/01/1862_ **

Jongho looks at Yunho, and then back at Hongjoong. This situation is a little familiar, but this time the Captain is awake and ready to shoot out all of the question Jongho has kept inside because he’s too afraid that Yunho might do something out of his rash-decision-making nature if _ he’s _the one who asks, and not Hongjoong.

Apparently, Hongjoong isn’t doing much asking.

“I’m really-” Yunho took a deep breath, “_ really _sure I can do this alone, Captain. As I’ve told you before, where we’re going isn’t exactly ‘alien-friendly’, and I should know this best because I- I’m from around there,” he trails off, fingers fidgeting around with the hem of his coat that he’s been sewing since the morning and eyes looking out from the slightly opened window shades.

“I know, Yunho,” Hongjoong raises an eyebrow, letting the corner of his mouth twitched into a smile. “What? Do you think I don’t know where you get your half _librae _blood from?”

Jongho tries his best to stay calm, as if he’s not currently discovering the biggest secret of their biggest mysterious member of the team ever - but he’s not about to risk getting punched by Yunho if he gets the slightest bit interested in the two older’s supposedly secret interaction. A punch from Yunho won’t hurt, Jongho just hates it when anyone puts into action how much they don’t like him as a creature.

“I-it was artificial, supposedly,” Yunho pipes in, now sounding a bit more nervous. Jongho can only hear Hongjoong’s hum, encouraging Yunho to continue. 

“I mean - they said it was. . .artificial. The blood of the _ librae _ , the blood of your people. They told us it won’t hurt and that they were just testing to see if the machine can inject things the right way into the right _ person _,” the taller continues, speaking in a hushed tone. “It wasn’t. It wasn’t fake, it wasn’t even. . .safe.”

Jongho positions his tablet so that he can see Yunho and Hongjoong without actually looking up from his work and be so obvious about it, and they are now positioned beside each other, sandwiched between the ship’s emergency room with its slightly opened door - and the youngest almost flinched when he catches Hongjoong’s eyes looking right back at his through the reflection of their Captain on his tablet.

“People started dying. The boy beside my room, someone my age who taught me how to speak another language because he was stolen all the way from Canada. . .”

“Canada?” Hongjoong repeats the foreign-sounding word, and Yunho nods.

“It’s. . .a place around here. On earth. And he was so. . .optimistic about dying. He said that whatever happens, we shouldn’t wish anything bad on everyone who made it or the _ librae _ s themselves. He told me that your people were also hurting, how humans illegally capture some of your people and start removing every single drop of blood from their body because they have a faster possibility of regenerating their own cells, even making _ new _ones-” he stops, and both Hongjoong and Jongho froze from the conclusion they’ve arrived to.

“They’re making clones using a potion extracted from the _ librae _ s blood,” Yunho looks straight into Hongjoong’s eyes, noticing the Captain’s shaking pupils. “And I’m Jung Yunho’s only one to _ survive. _”

There’s a knock on the door, and Jongho stands right up on his feet to open it - since it seems like Hongjoong is responding to the news just fine, unlike himself. Jongho frowns when he opens the door, though his eyes meet Wooyoung’s worried ones, his mind is travelling a few miles per hour just to process this new information. 

Maybe it’s less of a surprise now that Yunho is not just _ half _ human and half _ librae _ \- having a normal mother and father wouldn’t make you able to adapt in both environments that easily. But Yunho has always been calm in both terrain, as if no change or shift in the air troubles him. 

_ Clones. _

Jongho clears his throat, raising an eyebrow at Wooyoung, who is growing impatient. “May I help you, Woo-”

“CAPTAIN! SEONGHWA IS OUTSIDE OF THE SHIP CHASING RYUJIN BECAUSE SHE’S BEEN KIDNAPPED BY THIS WEIRD KID! WE HAVE TO GO!”

Jongho felt like his right ear _ cracked _ from how loud Wooyoung is being, and he can obviously see the worry drowning the smaller creature - but amused at how Wooyoung is still standing at a formal position with his hands behind his back even when the news is _ this _important.

“What?” Hongjoong leaves his seat beside Yunho immediately as the taller leans in to check on their radar alongside Jongho, who are both grimacing in muted panic. “Does that mean we’re discovered?” Yunho reaches for his uniform, an unreadable emotion covering his face.

Wooyoung resulted in nothing but worried noises, and he wastes no time in following Hongjoong out of the emergency room - leaving both Yunho and Jongho to their own devices, one of them quickly drowning himself in self-guilt because how the fuck did Jongho not see Ryujin getting kidnapped and the other frowning upon the first one in worry.

“Hey-”

“Stop,” Jongho cuts Yunho off, moving in a hurry to put his shoes on.

“It’s not your fault,” Yunho starts again, letting his right hand rest on Jongho’s shoulder a bit too long. “I know it’s not, but it almost feels like it _ is _,” Jongho replies - replaying the video again and again. “How the fuck does Ryujin even get kidnapped? She’s scary as hell-” he stops, eyes travelling away from the screen of his computer to meet Yunho’s eyes.

“I agree, Ryujin _ is _scary,” Yunho nods, a little uncomfortable when Jongho does nothing but look at him. “Why are you looking at me like that? I’m not Seonghwa - I don’t think Ryujin is in need of motherly protection 24/7. Jongho? Jongho, are you okay?”

Jongho says nothing, a suspicious look still displayed on his face. 

“This is where they clone humans using _ librae _s’ blood, huh, Yunho?” he asks finally, and the older nods carefully - a little shaken by the silence that has now fill the room. He’s afraid of the younger’s silence, and even more on edge in wanting to go with Hongjoong and Wooyoung but not being ordered to do so.

Jongho moves aside a little bit, letting Yunho take a better glimpse at the video he’s been watching on repeat.

Ryujin, getting kidnapped, Seonghwa’s sudden and not-very-wise decision of running after her, Wooyoung calling the kidnapper a _ weird _kid and the very supposedly sensitive alarm not going off even after someone entered their area?

“But that’s not possible!” Yunho backs off, both of his hands running through his hair. Jongho looks at him in disbelief. “Look at the video, Yunho-”

“T-they can’t. . .they’ve never- when did they even began to clone _ librae _s? Why would they do that, what benefit would it give them?” Yunho slides down the wall, leaning onto it as if they’re his lifeline.

“Well, that’s Ryujin, carrying _ another _ Ryujin - so I’m sorry if I fail to see your point here, but,” Jongho mutes himself, sighing when he feels like he’s getting a bit too carried away. He can’t be angry about this, this whole place _ was _Yunho’s beginning.

It’s weird when you say it that way. Clones are the end of one’s life, but its life begins the long awaited start of a new life. 

“I’m starting to think we’re not here to retrieve and save our people from the War,” Jongho breathes out from his nostrils, his heart hammering in his chest while he plans to voice out what he’s been thinking from the very start of this journey. “What do you mean?” Yunho looks up. “I think they want us to start. . . taking humans who is now a part of us and keeping them hostage," Jongho side-eyed his friend, who is now looking away from the scrutinizing glare Jongho is giving him. "That's what they did to you, isn't it, Yunho?"

Yunho, weirdly enough - can feel the energy radiating off of his friends when they’re agitated, even if it’s only the slightest. It might not be weird for some people, but for someone who has been told that he’s not supposed to have or understand any emotions, this is a cool upgrade for him. 

Though it seems like no one else has adapted the fact that he doesn’t have a real mother and father - since referring to himself; or _ Jung Yunho _ of the past, as his lifegiver feels just a little bit weird to him - he feels it himself sometimes. On times where he’s needed to show emotions beyond the things he’s learned on showing and tried to suppress, he finds it hard to keep up with everyone else.

Luckily, he’s a natural at being optimistic; or so Hongjoong always told him.

“Do we even have any idea where Wooyoung and Captain went to?” Yunho leans in to rest his crouched feet, giving up on trying to peer into Jongho’s interesting and very advanced gadgets since he’s never been able to read it even if he tried. “I have a feeling-”

“A feeling?” Yunho grimaces from the glare Jongho directed towards him for cutting off his speech. He realizes too late that it's normal for naturally born beings to experience feelings, and once he does, Yunho does nothing to fix his flawed logic. Feelings are still not a good base to start with _anything_.

“Yes - now listen, Yunho. I have a feeling that they headed that way, for obvious reasons,” Jongho motions towards the two blinking spots on his screen as his other hand points a little further away towards the messily cut open electric gate located a few feet away from where they were spying.

Yunho sighs. “I have no idea Wooyoung is unable to feel pain, too - to top off all of his questionable behaviour,” there’s something wrong about the way Yunho smiles in this kind of situation, but Jongho did nothing in trying to correct the older.

“Oh come on,” he says instead, obtaining Yunho’s attention as he stood up, “we’ve been with this team for _ decades _ now. I’m sure you’re supposed to feel normal about. . .discovering things,” Jongho ends the sentence, non canonically awkward. “Yeah,” he reassures himself.

“I think it’s okay to be pleasantly surprised from time to time,” Yunho retorts with a smile - and Jongho hates how much more reassured he felt when Yunho said it and how it does little to nothing to affect his nerves when he said it himself. “It helps us stick together,” the older continues, and his eyes zoned out for a second - probably thinking of Mingi and Yeosang, who they haven’t found yet.

"Oh, so you like the element of surprise, huh? That's why you kept us in the dark about you being a clone for so long?" Jongho thinks it's kinda funny, but Yunho's deadpanned look might prove otherwise. He clears his throat before looking ahead.

“We have to find Captain and Wooyoung - which in return would lead us to find Seonghwa and Ryujin- _ wait _,” the younger stops dead in his tracks, turning around with wide eyes to come face to face with Yunho, who is equally as confused. “Where the fuck is San?”

San is; if not the epitome of - the _ only _reason why the word ‘worried sick’ is even made in the first place. He’s sick, sure, sick of waiting around like he’s useless around the ship as if he is unable to just go and track Yeosang and Mingi down on his own - so it won’t be endangering the whole team and it would only put danger upon his own shoulders; but he can’t do that either with Wooyoung keeping an eye on him almost 24/7 and his friend’s morality of; ‘whatever the Captain says, goes’. Even though San thinks; it’s not really going against the Captain’s words if he doesn’t know the shit that goes down on the other side of the war. 

With all due respect, San loves Hongjoong the same way he loves every single one of his team, but here comes the second point.

If San worries too much - he gets _ sick _.

Like, severely ill. As if the smallest ripples of wind can knock him out because, _ ‘It’s so fucking cold, Wooyoung - close the fucking door and go to sleep.’ _

That morning was no different for San, as he tries his best to keep his mind off Mingi, who is his roommate - which made it harder to just forget the fact that there is no roommate now, and in return, thinking of Mingi brought him to thinking of Yeosang, too. How is he supposed to not think of Mingi and Yeosang? Why was the option there in the first place?

He decided to drown himself - well not drown, more like stand under - the almost, scorching hot water for a few hours until he heard something rather suspicious going on outside his lonely chamber. Ah fuck, he’s lonely.

San tried his best to speak, he really did, but his voice came out groggy and too quiet for anyone to be able to hear from the outside. It sounds like Seonghwa, though, rummaging through some things - probably. The sounds grew gradually louder and louder, until San heard more than just whispers. “The fuck. . .?” he finally decided to put on his sweater, peeking outside his door to see the door to Seonghwa’s room slightly opened. It’s dark inside, and someone was speaking in hushed tones - though no one is answering their seemingly one sided conversation.

He was about to open his mouth to call out for Seonghwa when he is silenced. _ The voice was too high-pitched to be Seonghwa’s. _

San opened his door a little more, staggering to make it outside without producing any suspicious noises - and a possibility came across his mind. Could it be. . .?

A touch on his shoulder almost made him yelp in surprise, but he barely looked behind him to see the puffed out pink hair everyone is growing familiar with. “San?” Ryujin mumbled, her hand not leaving his shoulder even though her eyes are focused somewhere else, specifically to Seonghwa’s slightly opened door. 

The older between the two frowned, nodding in response before following Ryujin’s glance. Ryujin’s existence by his side eliminates the chances that she’s in Seonghwa’s room, which was already a weird thought to begin with but San could’ve let it slide under the fact that the older male has been acting like a protective mother hen around Ryujin - though even San himself thought that Ryujin isn’t the type to run to find protection when she has nightmares, everybody just watched as it happened a few nights ago, and it ended with Seonghwa and Ryujin talking in soft whispers underneath the moonlight with warm drinks in their hands; a habit Yunho have taught them a while back.

Seonghwa seems to enjoy being depended on by a little stray child; he’s a lot more giving at breakfasts now.

“Are you-” San finished his sentence before even starting, cursing himself at how loud his voice sounded, for one, and because the hushed noises coming from the eldest’ room is now halted. “Are you looking for Seonghwa?”

Ryujin nodded, worry subsiding from her facial expressions as she felt San walking beside her with a hand over her shoulder. In reality, San was just scared shitless that whatever it is in that room might just jump out and attack her and he’ll be the one to take the blame when _ mother _ Seonghwa comes back and asks for someone - _ anyone _\- to be responsible.

“Anyone will do, actually. I think I might know something,” she continued, eyes flickering here and there while she helped San to stand straight, knowing how weak the older is right now. “But don’t worry! It’s nothing bad. It’s just new information I think I’ve begin to remember about myself and what happened before this, you don’t have to worry-”

“Ryujin,” San tilted his head, suppressing a smile.

“Okay, okay,” Ryujin sighed, stopping to face the older to break the news. In the process, she might’ve caught a glimpse of what actually _ was _in Seonghwa’s room - and she nearly shitted herself if she’s not, at the time, holding onto San’s hand. “Holy shit- that’s-”

San can’t help the way his eyes rounded, alarmed of Ryujin’s reaction even though he’s sure he should be used to this. He _ was _ used to this, but not now. Not while he’s sick and at his weakest point. Not while he is on a mission to protect Ryujin - the only victim they’ve found - and somehow, there’s _supposedly_ something predatory behind them. Right fucking now.

He turns around, both arms automatically flew in front of Ryujin and making himself a protective shield in hopes of not falling when he tries to even slightly move. 

What he saw was. . . 

_ Ryujin? _

This one - this _ other _one? Had longer hair, supposedly reaching her waist and one eye coloured slightly different. If it’s not for the crack on the forehead - like the cracks you would find on the ceiling or the walls, San would’ve thought Ryujin is just able to magically grow her hair within one second. But the strong grip of the first one, the real one; was still planted around his arms in a vice grip - which confused San to no end.

The other Ryujin had blood smeared across her lips, and San grimaced at this, not wanting to have to go in and check out what happened in Seonghwa’s room. 

He hoped to whatever strong entity there is that created all of them that this other Ryujin only ate a stray rat that came inside their spaceship out of nowhere, but even that would piss Seonghwa out of his mind. Speaking of Seonghwa?

“There you are, you little bitch,” the other Ryujin spoke, her voice gravelly and machine-like, almost as if it’s heavily autotuned. Maybe it is. “Your petty little friends have been waiting for you down there, you know?” she continues, cackling to herself. 

San is done before this even started.

“Who are you calling a little bitch?” he responds, already lifting a foot to kick the other Ryujin, who is beginning to walk closer and closer. He was _ not _having any of that. “It’s just acting like a little dick, Ryujin don’t listen to it,” San spoke up - a little pout evident on his face to assure the Ryujin behind her that she's safe.

“Oh, _ we’re _ not lying,” the other Ryujin chuckled, still holding her torso after San striked her pretty hard. “We’ve got everyone down here, starting from the little bitch’s friend, to-” she trailed off, and now looking at San straight in his eyes, “to _ your _ slightly more irrelevant friends.”   
The other Ryujin’s laughter riled him up a little bit, he had to admit - but before long, San remembers nothing of how he got his arms around this other Ryujin’s throat, pinning her down in a manner where he usually would start picking his victims apart. 

“You’re weak,” her artificial voice squeaks out, apparently struggling from San’s strong hold around her voice-box. 

“_ Am _I, now?”

“Mhmm,” she smirks, mocking the anger in San’s eyes. “You have things you want to cohabitate with. You don’t want that stupid bitch to be afraid of you _ or _what you’re capable of doing. You’re also getting weaker and weaker ever since you started worrying about those two, huh?”

San knees her in the stomach, blocking the other Ryujin from making feet movements that might just make San topple over. A muted wail comes from the malfunctioning thing - but she’s still alive, and she’s still pissing the hell out of San. A part of him wanted to turn around and shout at Ryujin to run away, but a bigger part of him were filled with the need to prove something.

“I am worried about my friends,” he chuckled, “there’s nothing funny about that.”

His fingers slithered down from her throat, his brain haywire between impressed and shocked at how strong he is even when he’s sick as fuck because this fake Ryujin’s throat is now leaking fresh, _ green _ blood from his former grip - and now they’re resting on her left arm. “You want to know what’s funny to _ me _?” he asks, and she raises her eyebrows in a challenge.

“To see you operate without a few _ limbs _ .”   
He’s heard these kind of noises before, where it rips - and it begins ripping at a slow pace, then it gets faster as the last few organic meat were ripped off and it’s only hanging by a thread now before it gets taken off completely with the few final seconds of a loud, ear-deafening crack when one bone gets dislocated and freed from another bone it was connected to. That, and a bone-freezing shriek in the background, while all of this happens.

San isn’t called a maniac for no reason.

The artificial being can _ feel _pain, apparently, and this is evident by the tear-streaks down her cheeks and the pooling tear around his eyes - which is a complete contrast against her wicked smile and the oozing freshness of blood that is beginning to pool under her. 

“What about one more, hm?” he climbed off the creature’s torso, feeling the warmth and splash of the ‘blood’ under his knees. It smelled iron-y. “You know,” San reached for the being’s chin, “since I’ve got _ two _ friends who are. . . _ irrelevant _? Was that your words? Correct me if I’m wrong, kid.”

He didn’t question how this creature knew their language.

“SAN!” Ryujin’s - the _ real _ one - scream pierced through his ears, and he’s suddenly hyper-aware of everything, of how weak he is even though he just ripped a person’s hand out of their body, of how Ryujin has been watching this whole time, and of how she’s currently fighting something that looks even _ more _like her than this one that is under San right now, and she looks like she’s losing.

She’s not losing now, she’s winning - she managed to slam the other _ other _Ryujin down and proceeded to run at San’s direction at light’s speed, trying to catch the older’s hands to anchor her away from her enemy, but this did not happen. 

Ryujin was dragged by her waist, the other artificial Ryujin pulling her away from the hallway where San was crouching at faster than he could stand - and he damn near shits himself. “Fuck,” he curses, managing to take a glimpse back at the cackling, dying creature - which sounded like an automatic machine farting everytime she took in a deep breath to laugh at San’s failure. “There’s more of us, San,” she wheezed, “and there’s going to be more, thanks to the little bitch who helped us by getting caught.”

“I did not ask for the bullshit you're providing me with,” San mumbles, the fatigueness coming back to consume him once his need to see blood was fulfilled. He feels very feverish now, and he doesn’t even know what fever means - it’s just a word Seonghwa used to describe his very, very sick nature every now and then, if he got time to check up on the younger. 

“Well, you’re getting-” before she could further say anything more, San jabbed his hand through her skull, scoffing when little squeaks spills out of the dying _ thing. _“Shut the fuck up,” he groaned, feeling the stabbing pain returning, “I’ll just bring your brain over to Jongho, see if he can track where you’re keeping the kidnapped kids.”

He took a step back, pulling a face at the pulsing brain. 

“Since when do I talk to myself, the fuck?”

The process of getting to the emergency room was tiring for San - which was more like an emergency Captain’s chambers, obviously, since Hongjoong situated himself there not long after they arrived at their final target, which is finding Yunho’s friends; and naturally, Jongho migrates there too, not long after. The younger usually feels safer and a lot more open-minded around Hongjoong, so that’s where San is heading.

He was pleasantly surprised to see Wooyoung and Hongjoong storming out of the room, almost like they have a mission to finish right this instant. San would agree. There is something they need to do right now, which is finding Ryujin. 

San debated on the fact that he might have to be the one to break the news to Seonghwa, who would be wounded like a mother hen being left behind out of nowhere by their favourite child; if that could happen. He hasn’t read books on earthly animals yet.

Seonghwa’s position - he always have certain places he’s going to stay in for the rest of the day, and it’s usually right across the Captain’s room, wherever it was - is empty, and San was a little bit tempted on just barging in to Jongho and Yunho who looked like they were having some bomb ass debate, but stopped himself right before that.

Of course Seonghwa runs after Ryujin before everyone else does - how did San not get that into account.

Although he still doesn’t have a clue on how these ‘fake Ryujin(s)’ entered in the first place.

To ask Jongho or to follow the Captain, that. . .is the question.

San opted in following the Captain and Wooyoung before their scent is long gone and unable to be picked up by his nose, leaving the arguing - or maybe not arguing, just stressed out - Yunho and Jongho to be still inside their emergency rooms. 

He feels responsible, and so be it.

Seonghwa is never disturbed. He’s so calm and serene, most of the times - especially in times where they need him to stay calm and assist Hongjoong in further decision making.

This time, though, the look of distress was clear enough on his face that even Wooyoung was unable to stop the older and beg him to ‘please think it through’ before he threw himself out of the spaceship to follow Ryujin. . .who was kidnapped by someone who looks awfully familiar to her. He doesn’t need to know the problem to know that Ryujin was being carried away without her consent, and like a disturbed mother bear; he chased them down.

It is unwise, Seonghwa must admit - and if he ever comes face to face with Hongjoong after this incident, the Captain would say something about how this overprotective-ness might be Seonghwa projecting his need to come home and meet his newborn; who is a lovely little lady, might he add. And Hongjoong would probably be right. Seonghwa _ is _projecting, since he hasn’t had the luxury to go home and take good care of his daughter ever since the news came to them that his wife finally gave birth. It was a happy day, except for the fact that he’s partially hoping for Mingi and Yeosang to be there to hear the news. They weren't, and there's still no further clue about where they might be.

But that doesn’t go against saying that he felt the responsibility of keeping Ryujin safe because she deserves to go home. That, too.

Even when worse comes to worse, they can usually still runaway. Almost every time they’ve been stuck in a sticky situation, they’ve managed to get out. Also, what’s the worst that could happen? If Wooyoung, who was keeping an eye on him - reported the fact that Seonghwa is chasing Ryujin’s kidnapper, probably to Hongjoong, then the two will come looking for him while Jongho stays behind to navigate and Yunho stays with San because the latter needs constant reassuring.

Or Wooyoung might stay - _ nevermind _, Wooyoung is as attached to Ryujin as Seonghwa is, since she’s the only one in the entire ship who is quiet enough to just smile and nod at the things Wooyoung said whenever San is M.I.A from his self guilt-tripping abilities or when he’s sick and dying, just like right now, so they get along pretty well, and Wooyoung is pretty aggressive when it comes to his playground friends.

If Wooyoung and Hongjoong is the worst scenario, then it’s not the worst scenario at all. There’s literally little to nothing that could happen with their Captain and ½ of their Demonic Duo around, since any little movement could just mean; bloodbath. And they could run away from that place immediately after, it would be as simple as that. 

Seonghwa slides his fingers into the opening of the air shaft, not bothered to try and conceal his existence since the two guards would be gone before they could even move a muscle.

Piece of cake.

He lets himself hang from one arm for a little while, both of the guards looking up as if they could do anything to stop him from killing them - as if Seonghwa isn’t called the doom’s day that won’t listen to anyone’s begging unless they’re dead. 

Oh wait, dead people can’t beg.

_ “The fuck-” _one of them dared to speak, dared to open his sorry-ass mouth while being in the presence of Mr. Doctor who is trying to cut them open just because they exist in the same building of Ryujin’s kidnapper. Seonghwa is not in a good mood.

Yet, he threw one of them a wink, since supposedly the physical display of himself is attractive towards humans - but he doesn’t know if male humans are supposed to be attracted to other male creatures, but that can be sorted out later - before he lands a kick onto the human’s face, applying enough force to let one of his feet stayed upon the human’s face long enough until it’s stable for him to step on.

Human stepping-stones. Seonghwa could get used to these new gadgets.

It seems like the force of his kick was strong enough? The human fell to the ground, surely he would wake up a little later - though Seonghwa isn’t really sure why there’s red, liquid-y substance running out of this human’s ears and nose. Huh. Must’ve been a human thing he never learned about in- just kidding. Seonghwa failed every single one of his education system. 

Somehow, though, he picked up languages pretty fast.

He feels the shift of air moving behind him, and made a little, “Oh-” sound at how he’s been neglecting the other human. Right, this human has been standing there the entire time, shocked. Seonghwa scolds himself for his manners, turning around right when this human’s right hand is raised high enough to supposedly swing down and land a hit across Seonghwa’s skull, but the _ librae _beat him to it.

Honestly, Seonghwa did not plan for anything to get this violent, but what can he say? His hands are sharper than humans’.

He grimaced in disgust as his arms felt the warm, red-ish liquid around them as he pulls them away from the hole he just made in the middle of the human’s chest. Surely, that was where his heart was located. “I’m,” he starts off, debating on whether or not he wants to apologize using human language. He decides to fuck it and not say anything at all, the stoic expression returning to his face as fast as it was gone when he felt the warmth of the human’s insides.

Seonghwa is back to the highs and lows of disgust when he watches as his dark, grey uniform was drowned in the ugliest colour of red he’s ever seen. Oh, so the red is the human’s blood?

“The fuck,” he can’t help but mutter out, wasting no time in ripping off the sleeve with the blood tainting it. He doesn’t even understand why Wooyoung and San wasted their time to torture something with dark, red blood - since the blood isn’t even the pretty colour, but hey. He wasn’t here to judge humans’ blood.

Well he is now.

There is a slightly opened door to his left, and a dozen of - obviously - dead surveillance cameras along the hallway, so Seonghwa came to a conclusion that they’re keeping something inside these few dozen rooms, and they’re trying to keep them _ scared. _

The rooms only had little submarine-like windows on the doors, round and small. Small enough to let them peek outside but not big enough to let them look up at the surveillance cameras without noticing that it’s been dead all along. Enough to kill them from fear but not enough to kill of the hope. There are also name tags beside the doors, including informations Seonghwa isn’t too keen to find out or understand - but there _ is _something interesting about the door that was slightly opened.

It has blood smeared over it, and this time it’s a _ librae _’s. It’s green and fresh - almost too fresh that Seonghwa thought of the worst possible outcome, yet nothing could prepare him for what is about to happen. 

There are two bodies lying there, unmoving. 

The first one is on top of a bed - face caved in and pale, skin sickly and almost blotchy as if it hasn’t seen the sun for decades and years on end, eyes closed with a frown as if _ she _ was in pain when she died. Maybe she was in pain when she died, since one of her hands were curled into a fist while the other hangs low beside the bed, and there’s the ever so familiar blood-trail coming out of her ears and nose, this time not dark red and wet, just dry and. . .kind of brown. There’s multiple cables being injected to her sides, too, and Seonghwa felt the side of his eye twitch when he sees what _ that _is.

That is. . .a _ librae _blood.

“What the actual fuck is this?” he heard himself speak before he can even think of opening his mouth, his hand that was closer to the light switch automatically switching the lights on - only for his eyes to grow even wider at the sight of the _ second _body.

“Ryujin!”

This one is torn apart, its inside clawed out and her head tilted up because it was tied with something akin to its former clothing - and its throat. . .

Seonghwa looked away.

His hands are shaking as he stepped backwards, heads shaking ever so slightly in an attempt to distance himself from whatever the fuck he is seeing; from however he’s going to be traumatized over this event. He’s so distracted that when he was nudged by the cold feet of the first body, he jumped - going right into almost crying. He reads the tag around the first body’s feet.

_ Hwang Yeji. _

Seonghwa is having trouble breathing, and he’s going to have a problem in trying to sleep tonight. Fuck - how could he sleep when he just saw Ryujin fucking dead in front of him, alongside someone who could’ve been her age, these kids who might have another chance on living life successfully but they can’t because- How long has Ryujin even been here? How is she not putting up a fight? Why is she letting herself get drowned in ugly, red blood- _ wait. _

He looks down again at the body, eyes wide. Red-blood?

Why was there a non-red blood outside the door when he’s only seeing red blood? It could just mean that Ryujin is human all along. . .or this, down here, is not Ryujin. 

Seonghwa steps out of the room, a bit flabbergasted but determined to search for the kid now. A few thoughts are currently inhabiting his brain, and though he admits that the one he’s more keen on believing could just be as much of a stretch as it is possible to happen in real, day to day life. He just wants to hope. 

There could be two Ryujin! It might be why they were injecting the _ librae _blood into the poor girl, their bloods do regenerate fast. Too fast, he might add - that sometimes if they’re hurt a little bit too much they could just be-

“Cloned,” he halts. Damn his doctor brains, why are they only working _ now _?

Is that also why they’re here? Because Yunho wants to save his friends? Not only from the impending doom that is their people waging war upon each other but also, their little experiments? Are they supposed to go home with more people like Yunho? Or there have been. . . a lot of people like Yunho he just doesn't know about? Would he go out of his way to save his friends, too, if the time ever comes?

Why was that even a question - Seonghwa is already out here straying without his Captain’s order just to save one of his friends, so maybe Yunho’s motives are something akin to that. 

His ear twitches when it picks up the noise of a static radio, a little bit further underground right below his feet. Seonghwa frowns, focusing on not moving a single muscle to not make a noise louder than the one that could be useful. _ “Dead or alive. . .” _

If his jaw has the capability of dropping to the floor, it would.

_ “We’re only using extracts. . .so, dead. . .more than fine. Less force. . .they’re strong, too strong sometimes. . .A few of our experiments are gaining unexplainable strength too. . .” _

Seonghwa looks up to read the signs, left up there like a direction map of some sort. _ “Where are you putting them?” _ his ears pick up again, this time the voice isn’t static-y and messed up - so it seems like this is a real human talking back to the human from the other line of the radio. He deems it unimportant, since his mind is filled with looking for the smeared _ librae _blood on every door because it could be Ryujin’s, but the mention of a place bugs him to no end.

_ “9. . .Th- they are-. . .Operation District 9.” _

He was about to dwell on this a little longer, eyes catching the written direction to this ‘District 9’ on the map that was left on the wall - but then from his peripheral vision, Seonghwa saw the door at the end of the hallway moving, and peeking out from it is the familiar but a lot more sad looking version of the Ryujin he knows.

Her eyes are a little puffed from what seems to be tears, though Seonghwa doesn’t really understand the concept of crying, and there _ are _a few cuts across her shoulder - but those shouldn’t be too deep or too much of a problem for her. Seonghwa is failing to see the reason why she’s seated down there in the office; maybe, if she could just get out unseen - even if someone saw her she could just snap their neck in half, you know. 

“Ryu-”

“Are you planning to take me home?” she asks in between sobs, her blood-smeared hands wiping the tears away from her cheeks. “W-was that the plan? Because you _ can’t _. I- I don’t deserve a home, I deserve to die.”

“What? No, don’t say that. We’re going to come back home safe and sound, okay? We’re going to take you home with us, okay?” Seonghwa kneels, trying to get closer to the tilted vision of Ryujin, who is slouched on the ground. He lets out an almost exasperated sigh. Sure, Ryujin’s cuts aren’t deep, but soon enough she’ll lose even more blood than necessary and Seonghwa isn’t exactly in the safe and sure hold of his office back at home. “Can you come here? Or can I come there, if you don’t mind?”

Ryujin shakes her head, refusing to budge, “no.”

Seonghwa fights of his automatic reaction to frown. “Hm?” he tilts his head, opting to instead get himself comfortable so that he can engage in this conversation long enough, ears still inclined to listen to the radio-human communication a few feet below, just to see if the human plans to move upstairs. “Why no, kid?”

She’s fighting back the urge to say something, apparently - and Seonghwa’s eye softly twitches from the fact. The papers surrounding Ryujin is some sort of indication that she’s been doing something related to research, and Seonghwa has no idea what sort of information she could be getting out of the hour and a half he’s spent on looking for her, but it must be something. Obviously, since he’s never seen Ryujin in a state even _ close _to breaking down on someone else’s floor. 

She mumbled something he can’t quite catch.

“Can you repeat that again?” he leans forward, grimacing when Ryujin wails, hiding her face in her folded arms. He’s going to have to be ready for a fight, and that never ends pretty. Thankfully, though, Ryujin has never seen San in his blood-thirsty rage - _supposedly_. That would be terrifying for the young creature.

“I just _ killed _someone,” she states, now a little more stable. Seonghwa pulled a face - she’s done that a lot. Is this some sort of mid-life crisis?

Ryujin sighs, sniffing while wiping the trail of tears off her face.

“I’m a clone and I just killed the real Shin Ryujin.”

Seonghwa freezes on the spot, it only took him a few seconds of self-convincing to unfreeze himself from the initial shock for his brain to rewire and ask the girl in front of him the question he’s been meaning to ask. “W-what did she do?” he really wants to know, the images of the clawed out insides replaying in his head for the billionth time this evening.

“That’s the fucking problem,” she continues, hands shaking. “She did. . .nothing. She was just _ standing _ there but it felt like a switch was flipped in me and then I did- something. Fuck, I didn’t know what I did or why I did it, but I just did! And these papers told me all of these nonsensical things about how we- _ the clones _were programmed to eliminate the weakest and most human individual among us all, but why the fuck would someone program me to do that?!”

“Why would someone do this to anyone - was my whole life a lie, _ Seonghwa _ ?” she punched the door, moving it just enough for it to slam against the wall and then back at her - if Seonghwa didn’t move at full speed to stop that from happening. He’s a little shocked at how casually she’s referring to his name, since she usually calls him with ‘Mr. Doctor’ or ‘Doctor-Man’. But Seonghwa _ is _ his name, and he guesses maybe he shouldn’t be this shocked - but he reasons with it because maybe Ryujin is trying to disconnect from any of her previous relations, especially after realising she’s not fully a _ librae. _

Just. . .a clone of a human, injected with _ librae _’s blood.

“Shit,” was all Seonghwa was capable of saying, since he’s never been through this kind of situation, either. There were no clones and whatnot ever since he started out as a soldier, at least not that he knew about and reassurances never really played a big part in his entire work-line - since if you wanted assurance, your more experienced seniors would just shout it at you until you feel fired up; _ pissed off _ is more like it in Seonghwa’s dictionary, though, and he doesn’t really want to piss off Ryujin, who is like a child in distress.

“It’s okay,” he finally decided, circling an arm around her shoulders, avoiding any cuts and or bruises. The human(?) Ryujin really did put up a fight. Or did she?

Seonghwa spends his time looking around the quiet and empty hallway, noticing how there were two slightly opened doors out of five in this hallway alone - but the other three are screwed shut, almost as if there’s still entities inside those. 

The other set of five doors just across them are sealed shut, though their windows are opened and Seonghwa can see little bubbles floating out of them every now and then. What the _ fuck _are the humans working on in here?

“Why. . .” he starts off, noticing how Ryujin just now _ also _noticed the doors which has bubbles erupting out of them. “Why were you kidnapped if. . .if they didn’t need you for anything? I mean, who even kidnapped you?”

“Hm?” she hums, eyes zoomed in on the view behind the two of them - inside the dark room. “They wanted my blood, since I’ve adapted to the way _ librae _s live. They thought it would mean I’m like. . .a survivor’s blood, or something - and I would cost like a lot, in human currency. My blood was about to be sold, apparently. They’re running a cloning business or some shit. As to who kidnapped me,” Ryujin nudges the dead body by her feet, and Seonghwa almost flinched. “This other Ryujin kidnapped me. None of these other clones are as ‘perfect’ as they meant it to be, though - and I saw San rip the hell out of one’s voice box. Looked interesting, so I did it to this one, too, because she was being a little bitch."

“He ripped the voice box, Ryujin - you took her entire _ face _ off,” Seonghwa pokes the dead body, eyes-widening slightly at the bits and pieces hanging off the _ ‘Ryujin’ _’s face, left behind by the messy cut Ryujin did by not using a surgeon’s knife. He momentarily paused at the thought of San going at it in front of Ryujin, ripping the throat of some clone that looks exactly like her - and he tries to stop himself from gagging.

“This bitch deserved it, she tried to suck on my blood,” Ryujin pushes the dead body away, chuckling when Seonghwa pulled a face.

“I know. Disgusting.”

The silence that settled after is calming, and save for the few guards on the beginning of the hallway and the ocean of dead, twitching humans behind them - Seonghwa felt at ease for the first time in a while. His mind was busy buzzing with adrenaline and disbelief when this whole ordeal started, but now that his ‘mission’ - _who the fuck even gave you this mission, Seonghwa, you brought this upon yourself_ \- is over, he can settle into a seat peacefully.

“You’ve saved me a few times now,” Ryujin chimes back into the conversation, eyes seeing nothing in particular, as if she’s about to doze off. “I appreciate that.”

Seonghwa chuckles, flailing his arms as if it’s supposed to mean something - a ‘forget about it’, maybe. “You should stop counting how many times I’ve saved your life and instead focus on how many times you’ve escaped death because,” he whistles, “that’s more than the amount of people there are in my team.”

His eyes travel elsewhere while she laughs like she’s about to start choking - but that’s just how Ryujin is - scanning each and every single one of the papers scattered across where Ryujin was sitting. A familiar face caught his attention.

“Wait, is this Yunho?” Seonghwa picks up a file, and Ryujin leans in to read what the paper says, giving up after a few seconds because she’ll be damned to hell and back if she can read _that. _It’s written in human language, and although Ryujin found out that she - fuck, no. Her _real _self - no. Her ultimate lifegiver? Maybe. And although Ryujin found out that her ultimate life giver was human, she’s never been taught how to read and write human language before she joined the military.

But this human language is maybe a step further - since it looks messy and sketchy, almost like a drawing of a five-year-old instead of a writing, built from words and letters.

“Jin?” Seonghwa lets his eyes scan over the writings, even though he’s getting more and more sure that he’s unable to read them. “What files are these?”

“It’s their cloning records,” Ryujin nudges the door behind her with the point of her elbow as it opens with a creak, and Seonghwa’s jaw is closer and closer to dropping than before - if his jaw even has the capacity to do so. “I took it all from _ this room right here. _”

Ryujin rummages around the folder room with a pained smile across her face while Seonghwa puts two and two together, and the door across the hallway swings open with force, jamming the door into a wall behind it and a cracking follows suit. "Wait- does this mean Yunho is-"

“Hwa! We have to go!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yikes

**Author's Note:**

> wee woo  
i'm scared for yall to see the next chapter


End file.
